Bride of the Wolfman
by hbrackett
Summary: What if Melissa McCall and Peter Hale had been allowed to go on their date? Does Scott have a new father figure in his future to teach him about sports, women, and how to properly rip out a throat? Rated M by chapter 4. Fixed missing stuff in Chap 5.
1. Chapter 1

'_I can't believe this, I'm as excited as a high school freshman on her first date.' _thought Melissa McCall as she put the final touches on her make-up. The doorbell rang again.

"Scott, for the love of God, please!" she called down. Sighing, she peeked around the staircase to see her beloved only son staring up at her while her date waited outside.

"Scott, aren't you going to invite him in?" '_Cripes, he's here!'_ She rushed back to the bathroom and checked herself once more. Well, she was as perfect as she was ever going to be. She went down the stairs and searched for her purse in the kitchen. Where the hell did she put it?

"Just half a second, sorry." She said apologetically. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she got a distinct feeling of déjà vu.

Robert had always hated it when she kept him waiting…in fact it had led to the one and only time he ever struck her. His temper had grown shorter and shorter over the fourteen years of their marriage, and she had grown more and more nervous, which of course had led to more absent-mindedness. The big day came when he had gotten the promotion he'd been after for years, and they were running a few minutes late to his 'surprise' party. There he stood, dressed to the nines, the gorgeous brown eyes narrowed in thin fury when they had once looked at her with adoration, and the perfect teeth bared in a sneer of disgust instead of the happy smile she fell in love with.

"Goddamn it, of all nights! No way in hell you could have maybe prepared by leaving everything out in a convenient spot! Every day with the damn scavenger hunt! You doing this to piss me off? Well, it's goddamn working!"

"Robert, I'll just be a second, please calm down!" she said frantically. Thank God Scott was already off to stay over with Stiles for the evening. She hated for him to see his father like this. She hoped bad tempers didn't run in the family.

"Stupid bitch…" he said under his breath, perhaps louder than he realized. Melissa froze where she was standing, clutching the purse she had just discovered wedged behind a sofa cushion.

"Good, you have it, now LET"S GO!" he practically shouted at her.

"Go by yourself you son of a bitch." she said slowly and clearly.

"What the HELL did you just say to me?" he said in a quiet deadly voice.

She turned to him, and for some reason all of the fear and anxiety that dominated her life suddenly fled.

"You heard me. You are nothing but an animal. A goddamned soulless beast. It's over, Robert. I'm leaving and I'm taking Scott with me, before you turn _him_ into an animal too.

He stared at her, a range of emotions passing across his face. She had the feeling that he only realized just now how he had been behaving for years, and was stunned that the point of no return had come up so suddenly and without warning. His mouth opened and closed while he struggled for something to say.

"Look. I'm sorry. We can talk about this later. Let's go."

She shook her head. If she took it back now, he would always assume she was too weak to follow through…and the treatment would get worse.

"No. Go to your party Robert, it's being thrown for your favorite person in the world. Yourself. You don't need me…you haven't for a long time."

Rather than think about admitting this to himself, Robert seemed to snap and he was over to her in a second holding her arm in a painful grip.

"I said let's go. Don't make me tell you again. You always have to screw everything up for me, I could have had this job a long time ago, but you had to let yourself get knocked up-"

Melissa yanked her arm out of his grip. There was a popping sound, and a small button from his sleeve cuff flew across the room. Robert looked at the hanging shirtsleeve…and then slapped Melissa across the face. Again, that stunned look as he stared at his own hand. Had he really just done that, or had his hand acted on its own? It felt like his anger were a separate entity, once chained up but now able to free itself at the slightest provocation. He contemplated this for about 1.5 seconds before Melissa snatched up a vase (fourteen years previously it held flowers that he bought her when she brought home Scott.) and smashed it into the side of his head. He staggered and reeled, clutching the bleeding side of his head. He growled…actually growled…but her next words cut it off.

"If you ever touch me again…one of us is going to die. Don't be too sure it will be me. You can beat me to a pulp…but you have to sleep sometime." Her voice as she spoke these words seemed to belong to another. Did they _both_ have inner monsters? What hope was there for Scott?

Robert looked at her for a brief moment and she almost thought she saw regret in his eyes. Then he turned and left the house. It was over.

All of these memories flashed through her mind as she once again found her purse wedged behind the sofa cushion. Scott and Peter were talking, and Scott was tense and glaring daggers at the older man. How adorable, Scott was being a little man of the house, probably threatening Peter to take good care of her. She brushed between them and Peter flashed a smile at her that Robert never could even on his best day.

"I'm ready, sorry again."

Peter offered her his arm in such an old school gesture of gentility that it startled her. Men never treated her with such deference…he acted like he had waited a lifetime just for her. She smiled and intertwined her arm with his and they stepped out the door.

"MOM!" said Scott urgently.

"Yes, sweetheart?" she said brusquely, torn between her mothering and dating instincts.

"Have a good time." Scott mumbled forlornly. Melissa was touched. When she got back, she would be sure to have a long talk with him about how he felt. As much as she wanted to have a social life again, she would give it all up if it would hurt him.

Peter opened the door for her and helped her inside the car. As she settled in, he closed the door gently and in less than a moment was seating himself beside her. He was remarkably quick and extremely graceful, and it threw her for a moment. He had the reflexes and speed of a teenager.

He smiled at her, and her heart sped up a tad. She wondered again what it was about him that had charmed her so quickly. Her guard had been up for years, and Scott would be stunned to know the number of suitors she had turned down cold, including her own boss (hence the passive aggressive shift schedule he had imposed on her since then). Peter just seemed…like he was from another planet or from a different race. She knew that she had never met anyone like him before. Not a single alarm bell had gone off.

They drove past the turn for the restaurant. From her experience with Robert, she knew men didn't like to be told how to drive, so she kept silent while she thought frantically how to bring it up in a diplomatic fashion. Although his attention was on the road, he spooked her by saying "Everything all right?"

"Um, yeah, except I think…maybe we missed the turn for the restaurant." This would be the test then; how he reacted would tell her if this was something she wished to pursue. Unless of course he were a serial killer and was really driving her to some lonely place so he could-

She stopped that line of thought.

"Well, I'll pull over. You can map it on your phone." he said to her relief. Not overly macho, and not a serial killer.

As she began pressing buttons on her phone, she felt his eyes on her. His look when she met his gaze was almost predatory, as if he were hungry for her. She grew embarrassed, definitely not used to this sort of attention.

"What?" she said, giggling. When was the last time she giggled?

"I was just noticing you have the most incredible skin. It's flawless."

Melissa flushed with an uneasy mixture of self-consciousness and vain pleasure. Thank the gods for the cosmetic effect of darkness…though how he could tell anything in the dark car was beyond her. Or was this an opening move? Melissa McCall _was not_ the type to become intimate on a first date…and especially _before_ the first date.

"That's a new one on me." she said to make it clear that while compliments were appreciated, they were not the way to take things to the next level.

Then his hand was stroking her face. "Do you mind?" he asked softly. At his touch, she felt a long dead part of her come burningly awake. For a moment, she wanted him as much as he obviously wanted her. There was no doubt about it now…his face was rapt with desire. They moved towards each other when her phone dropped from her nerveless fingers, enough to snap her out of the spell she was under.

"Oh, sorry." she said, tearing herself away from the gaze to bend down and reach for her phone. She failed to notice while she searched that her date's eyes were burning with crimson fire, and his lips were pulling back over teeth that were too large to contain them.

Elsewhere…

"God Stiles, of all times to get a flat tire! Who knows what they could be doing! He could be biting her right now!" Before Stiles could answer, Scott took off running.

Melissa found her phone and straightened up. Peter was looking thoughtfully out the windshield.

The phone's map program beeped as it coughed up the directions they needed. Peter glanced at it quickly, then pulled back onto the street.

"Everything okay?" she asked. She wondered if he were mad that the moment earlier had been broken.

"Perfect. More than perfect. I have to say that I haven't had a night I've enjoyed like this in over six years."

"Wow, and the date hasn't even started yet." she quipped.

"Oh, trust me, it has." Another blinding smile. Melissa settled back in her seat content to finish the trip in silence, happily musing that after all of these years…she still had it.

Scott tracked their scent all the way to the restaurant and peeked through the window. Peter Hale and Melissa were sitting at an intimate table for two, a glowing candle set between them. Melissa was laughing, and as Scott watched, she moved her chair just a little close to Peter's. Melissa lifted a piece of prime rib and gently placed it in Peter's mouth while he closed his eyes and chewed pleasurably. The eyes opened then and focused directly on Scott. He finished chewing and swallowed before taking Melissa's hand in one of his own and gently squeezing it. With his other, he pulled out a phone and sent off a quick text without even looking at it. Melissa didn't notice. Scott's phone beeped.

"She will be all right. I give you my word. Go home. We'll talk."

Peter put the phone away and held up his hand in a 'Scout's Honor' gesture. Scott was already listening for the heartbeat, and it remained steady.

Fuming, Scott left and ran at superhuman speed back to Stiles who had just finished changing the tire.

"Scott! Is she okay?" he asked frantically.

"They're having dinner. He promises he won't hurt her." Scott showed him the text.

"And you believe him?" Stiles gaped.

"He won't do anything, tonight at least. But we _are_ going back to the restaurant to keep an eye on them."

Peter Hale was having an amazing time. Up until now, he had been sure that the fire had burned out any shred of human feeling he had left. He had been about to administer the Bite to this woman who had long ago whelped the world's worst future teenage werewolf when the uniquely enticing pheromone scent she gave off had finally built up to critical levels. A shock of recognition roared through the Alpha wolf within him; against all possibility, it had decided she might actually be his true mate. In less than ten seconds, the wolf instinct began a subtle re-ordering of his thought processes, and Peter pulled back from her, shoving the transformation aside. He felt the gasping relief one feels when pulling back from a dangerous precipice…the sense of disaster barely averted. Had he really wanted to hurt her? Funny that what he was _intentionally_ doing to her, she had unwittingly done to him…awakened feelings that had lain dormant for years. Dormant…but not as dead as he thought.

He looked at her with new eyes and debated the choice he had in front of him.

He needed Scott to take down Kate Argent…the miserable evil witch who had taken everything from him. Melissa was obviously the best way to obtain Scott's cooperation. Peter convinced his nephew that once Kate was dead, Derek would be free to take the Alpha's life and acquire his power…both to put Peter himself out of his own misery and also to pay for his own unintentional murder of Laura. Peter was no hypocrite, and was committed to paying that debt the moment he realized what he had done to his niece. This promise had insured Derek's cooperation.

On the other hand…life had a few more surprises to offer, it seemed. Peter had never married, never felt a connection with any woman before. The sense of _mate_ had eluded him for years, far longer than any other werewolf the Hales had ever heard of. He had never even known what he was missing. The wolf was reveling inside him. Kate Argent would still need to die, that fact had not changed. Now, self-preservation would replace revenge as the necessitating factor. Kate would want to murder Derek and Scott, and Peter could not allow that. The thought of Kate finding out about Melissa sent chills up his spine. If he were to lose her, then he _would_ be dead inside, this time forever. For this to happen now when he was so close to final revenge and the bliss of death was the greatest of ironies.

"Are you sure you don't want dessert?" he asked again.

"No, thank you, I'm on a diet." She said.

"You're kidding me. Why ever for? You look stunning." He said with dead seriousness.

"Oh, thank you, I know I don't not really-" she stopped when she felt his hand on her chin dragging her blushing face up until their eyes met.

"You don't know the power you have. You are a goddess…don't let anyone tell you different. I've never met a woman like you." The sincerity in his voice was impossible to fake. He believed every word he said. Melissa's face was glowing like a crimson moon.

"So, tell me what's made you so guarded when it comes to men. Scott's 'man of the house' routine looks pretty well practiced."

"You don't want to hear about all of that."

"Never be afraid to tell me anything, Melissa. In fact, I am determined to find out everything there is to know about you, so you might as well get it over with. I am relentless when I need to be."

Melissa knew that often the last thing a guy wanted to hear on a date was about previous relationships, but since he asked…

She attempted to gloss over and summarize, but each time he stopped her and asked questions and probed for detail until she gave up and gave him the 'long version'. He took it all in, only reacting once when she described the domestic violence incident. His fist clenched around his teaspoon, turning it into a stainless steel pretzel.

Melissa was awed. "That's some kung fu grip you have there."

Peter looked down.

"What's wrong?" she asked, afraid she had said too much.

"I may as well confess to you now that I have my own anger management issues. In fact…I was hurt by some…pretty bad people. My life has been consumed with seeing them… brought to justice. I wouldn't dream of asking you to put up with anything like that again. There are other things too, that I don't want to tell you…just yet." He withdrew his hand from her and seemed to pull back into himself. His eyes went frost cold. Melissa began to panic. 'Shit! Why do I always mess everything up?' she berated herself internally.

"You can tell me anything, Peter. I understand about being afraid of scaring someone away. I'll just ask that if you feel you can't tell me something yet, let me know, but don't lie to me. As for the ones that hurt you, I'm sure they deserved what they got. I told Robert I would kill him if he touched me again, and I meant it. Oooh, I was so furious with him for fourteen years of cruelty. I didn't know what would be worse…if he started in on Scott or if…Scott started to _become_ like him. I _won't_ have anyone turning my son into a monster."

Peter started to choke on his wine.

"Would you have done it?" asked Peter, his eyes looking slightly red when he recovered.

Melissa thought about it.

"I would have stuck a meat fork into his throat as soon as he fell asleep. I know how that sounds, but I would have. Possibly cut off certain things he would sorely miss." Now it was Melissa who averted her eyes.

"If you had to describe to the police in a single word why you had done it, what word would you have used?"

Melissa glanced at him at the odd question, then shrugged her shoulders.

"Revenge, I guess. The most primal basic instinct of them all. No use prettying it up with another fancy word." God, he must be revolted by her.

"I think…I'd like to kiss you, if you don't mind." he whispered, against all reason.

The breath stopped in her throat.

Their eyes met, and the connection that had been buzzing between them like electricity between two broken wires suddenly grew strong and steady. In both their minds, they jumped off of their own proverbial cliffs and gave themselves over to the idea that they could actually fall in love.

The kiss was pure passion, and both forgot that they were in a restaurant in full view of other patrons and staff.

"Your check, Sir?" said a rather snooty waiter. Melissa pulled back suddenly, and Peter turned a crimson gaze on the offending staff. He paled and backed away while Peter slipped out his wallet and withdrew some bills to place in the leather folder. Melissa was blotting her mouth with a napkin, and Peter did the same amusedly rubbing off her lipstick. Neither noticed the single drop of blood soaked into the fabric of Melissa's napkin.

"Maybe I should leave it, it could be my color." He said jokingly, staring at the lipstick stains. Melissa laughed, and outside the eatery Scott was amazed that such a laugh came out of her mouth. He had never heard it before. They linked arms and exited while the valet brought the car around while Scott and Stiles frantically hid. Peter smelled Scott of course, but instead of being irritated, he decided he approved of the younger werewolf's desire to protect his mother.

Scott and Stiles beat them home by about ten minutes, and the two boys had less than 30 seconds to pretend to be lounging about carelessly when the couple walked in the door. Stiles was holding an upside down book, while Scott was punching texts into his dead cell phone.

"Oh, hi guys, back already?" Scott asked.

"Yes honey, I told you we wouldn't be late. Stiles, you can stay if you want just call your father and let him know." said a nervous Melissa. She had hoped the boys would be asleep.

"Oh, no ma'am I'll be heading home. Nice seeing you guys." Stiles ran out to his jeep and sped off.

"Scott, don't you have something to finish up in your room?" said Melissa smiling in a strained bizarre fashion. 'Get out or I'll ground you until Judgment Day' the look said. Scott went up the stairs, still listening in with his werewolf hearing.

"I had an amazing time tonight." Melissa said breathlessly.

"So, you don't have to answer now… but I would love to see you again. Any interest?" his eyes sparkled, and she felt her heart skip again.

"Are you free every night for the rest of my life?" He chuckled and once more embraced her, breathing in her scent and rejoicing at the return of his soul.

'I'll do what I can to clear out my schedule. Good night." Another kiss, and he was gone. Melissa shut and locked the door, and only kept herself from shouting for joy to keep from upsetting Scott. After washing up and retiring to bed, she slept for the first time in years with a small Mona Lisa smile on her face.

Scott paced his room impatiently. About half an hour after his mother went to bed, Peter Hale appeared in his room. Even Derek couldn't pull it off as smoothly as that.

The two stared at each other.

Finally, Peter spoke.

"You have me…at a disadvantage."

Scott folded his arms, and said nothing.

"I know you'll be listening for a lie. I fully intended to use your mother as leverage with you, Scott, but…I genuinely have grown to like her. More than like her. I would not harm her now even if Kate Argent would promise to cut off her own head after slowly torturing herself for hours."

"Well, too bad. You need to stay away from her." Scott growled, amber eyes glowing fitfully in the dark.

"Why?" Peter asked simply.

"Because you're dangerous, and the people you are involved with are dangerous. Even if _you_ didn't hurt her, who's to say one of the Argent's-"

"By that logic, Scott, you need to leave as well. Shall we go together?"

Scott floundered.

"I will protect her Scott…and the best way to do that is to go along with my original plan and take down Kate Argent. She will never stop…and you are in her sights now too. Do you think she would hesitate to slaughter your mother? There were humans in my house when it burned. Children. You saw it. You cannot be around all the time. I can."

"If you kill Kate, her family will never stop coming for us."

"Let me worry about that." Said Peter with grim finality.

"Okay, seriously? What do you think is going to happen when my mother finds out about werewolves? About me and you? About the fire, and the vendetta? She is going to freak, Peter. And what happens then when she rejects you? Are you going to let her go? Or are you going to get mad? Goddamn it, she has been through too much to go through this again! There are ways she could be hurt besides physically!"

"You underestimate your mother. She is very strong, and I…shared a little bit with her. She understood. Even empathized."

"My mother would never hurt a fly!" Scott grated.

"Your mother confessed a desire to murder your father. Rather gruesomely, I might add. For his sake, I hope he doesn't plan on trying to return."

Peter's eyes glowed with hellfire as he said this.

"Great, now you're threatening my father too."

"He hurt her, Scott. Did she never tell you?"

From Scott's silence, and the advance of his features into full Beta phase, Peter guessed not.

"See how bravely she tries to protect you? Not many women stand up to abusive husbands these days. Your mother did. For you."

"Fine, you could have him."

"Excellent, what's his address?"

"Oh my god, I was kidding, I think. I know he's a jerk, that's why we don't talk to him! Look, this is about you. The only way I would even think of allowing this is if you could promise she wouldn't get hurt, and you _can't_ promise that! And you would have to leave all of my friends alone too."

"That reminds me." Peter pulled out his phone and sent out a quick text.

'Derek, hold off on JW. If he still wants it, I'll give it to him.'

"What was that?"

"Calling off an attack dog. Your friend Jackson has gotten a reprieve."

"You were going to kill Jackson?" Scott could barely keep his voice down.

"He was going to expose you. If you don't want him dead, the safest thing is for him to join the club."

"That's all I need." Scott threw up his hands and sat on his bed.

"He will be much more compliant after he turns, and I have a little chat with him. He is very intimidated by Derek, and frankly, I can make Derek seem like a Teletubby. Listen, even you cannot promise that you're mother will be safe, despite your efforts. I had ample opportunity tonight to kill or turn her if that was what I wanted, and you could not have stopped me. I can promise you this, however. She will eventually have to learn the truth. All of it. If at any time she requests that I leave her alone, I will do it. No questions asked, and you and your friends will remain safe. How does that sound?"

Scott nodded, hearing only a steady heartbeat as the Alpha spoke.

"A few things. First, I'm never calling you 'Dad'. Second, I want to be there when you tell her about werewolves…and you can't lie. Third…no turning my mom!"

"It isn't necessary, but on the off chance she asks for it, you will respect her wishes."

"My mom would never ask for that."

"Scott, you really do have a lot to learn about women. If you ever want to have 'the talk', I'm here." Peter smiled in a fatherly fashion while Scott rolled his eyes. "Kate Argent is the last responsible party for the Hale fire. She still dies, Scott. She is too much of a threat."

Scott sat down and thought about it.

"My mom won't like it, and you will have to tell her. I wish there were another way…but after you showed me that stuff in the shower at school…I really can't argue with you. My house could easily be next on her list. God, what is this going to do to Allison?"

"Make her stronger." Peter got up and seemed almost to flicker out the window.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Oh, I love you wonderful reviewers, but don't worry this story has me enslaved to its will already, I don't have a choice in writing it. I do plan on developing the other characters in this chap, but keep in mind everything revolves around Peter and Melissa, but their developing relationship affects what is happening with everyone else. Some unique confrontations that I've always wanted to see will be taking place later on. P.S., this story was inspired by fountainxxpenny and her wonderful story 'No Answer', please check it out!

Jackson couldn't help but sweat as he looked at the intense gaze of Derek Hale. The werewolf stood there regarding him silently from where he stood blocking the front door of the burned house.

"There's no one here." Jackson mumbled.

Derek slowly extended his claws, and seemed about to speak when his cell phone went off. Derek glanced at it quickly, and his eyes widened. He reread the message twice more, put away the cell phone and looked back at a trembling Jackson.

"You must have a guardian angel on your shoulder." Derek retracted his claws.

"What do you mean? You aren't going to turn me?" said Jackson, half angry, half relieved.

"No. I can't turn you. I just brought you up here to murder you and bury your dismembered and partially eaten body in the woods." Derek said this in a dead tone.

"_What? Why?_" Jackson had no doubt that what Derek said was true; hell, he had suspected it the moment they arrived at the house.

"You threatened to expose us. That's usually a death sentence. Do you honestly think you would ever be allowed to do that? We've remained hidden for hundreds of years. No teenage shithead is going to destroy that, no matter what kind of car he drives or what product he uses in his hair."

Jackson's mind struggled to process this even as he began to quake in terror at how close he had come to a grisly end.

"Derek…I won't tell anyone, ever. Please let me go home. I'll never bother you or Scott again! Please…you can't do this to me."

Derek shook his head, grinning.

"Sorry Jackson. The decision has been made. My uncle is the Alpha, and he's decided you get to join the club. I have no idea why he wants that, but it's not my place to question him."

Derek stepped up close to him.

"But he isn't going to be around forever. One day, I'll be the Alpha. And if you irritate me even slightly, you will wish I had killed you this instant…I promise you. He's coming now. Do me a favor and show him fear…or weakness…so I can watch him rip the limbs from your body."

Jackson collapsed backward on the floor.

"So…I get to be one of you?" in the midst of his fear, a very small part of him began to exult.

"You get to be a werewolf. You have a long way to go before you're 'one of us'."

They waited about half an hour, Jackson getting more and more nervous with each second. Where the hell was the Alpha?

Derek suddenly sniffed the air, and lunged at Jackson, pulling him flat to the floor. The windows shattered as the front of the house was peppered with gunfire from Kate Argent and two Hunters under her personal command.

"Goddamn, the witch ambushed us! Maybe this isn't your lucky day after all, Whittemore."

Jackson was completely terrified again, and was grateful for the cover Derek's body provided.

Then there was a scream , and the gunfire stopped. Another scream, and then all was still. The two slowly got to their feet, and Derek approached the door. It was suddenly opened by a naked Peter Hale, covered in blood and gore. Derek dropped his eyes in respect for the Alpha, but Jackson couldn't help but stare at the bloody leader of the Hale Pack. Peter fixed cold blue eyes on the frightened teen.

"Look down for fuck's sake, Whittemore." grated Derek.

Jackson did as he was told. "Um, sorry Alpha." he said nonsensically.

Peter smirked. "You can call me Peter, or just Sir. I don't mind telling you the rules once, boy, but twice is beyond my patience. That is the one and only warning you will ever get. Do you understand me?"

"Yes Sir, um, Peter…Sir."

"Shirt off, neck bared, eyes closed." said Peter, sighing.

While Jackson did as he was told, Peter looked at Derek.

"Kate was here with two of her friends. She must have followed you from the school. You allowed her to track you like that? I understand she is very talented for a human, but her henchmen were newbies. Surely one of _them_ should have tipped you off."

Derek colored. "I have no excuse. I was otherwise…distracted." Derek cut his eyes quickly to Jackson who was still struggling with the buttons on his shirt with shaking hands.

"See that you are less distracted in the future. She nearly cost me two wolves, and managed to get away while I ate her friends…but her days are numbered, hers and the rest of that wretched family. She will know what it's like to burn, I think. That will be my final revenge on her for the fire that cost us everything. They will _all_ burn. I may spare the daughter if she forgoes vengeance. Considering who her love interest is, it's likely. In that respect, choosing Scott to assist us was a wise choice."

Derek looked up, surprised before yanking his gaze back down. Jackson had removed his shirt by this point and stood there, shivering in the cold.

"Here, boy." Peter beckoned.

Jackson hesitated, but the look on Peter's face convinced him to obey quickly. When he was standing next to the older man, Peter looked down at him and studied him for the first time.

"Good physique. You'll probably survive the bite. Not everyone does, you know. Do you still want it?"

Jackson quailed inwardly at this news, but was smart enough to know that his choice in the matter was long past.

"Yes, Sir." Jackson turned his head, exposing his neck and shoulder, his eyes focused on a small unburned spot on the far wall. He locked his gaze there and waited. His trembling slowed, then stopped as he suddenly mastered himself. This was it…the end of his human life…one way or the other.

Peter nodded approvingly at the boy's efforts. Jackson heard a low growling sound, as well as the moist popping noises coming from Peter that indicated he was transforming. Clawed hands gripped his shoulders. Jackson stared down at the one in his view, hardly daring to imagine what the face of a creature who owned that paw must look like. Jackson brought up his own hands, and placed them on top of the Alpha's, steadying himself, and closing his eyes with a small sigh. The clawed hands squeezed gently once, then there was the soft wind that a sudden swift movement makes, and the Alpha's beartrap jaws were ripping into the tender meat of his shoulder. Jackson hitched in a great breath to scream, but let it out again in sudden determination to show bravery to his new leader. He clamped his mouth shut and gritted his teeth together, tears pouring from his eyes as the agonizing pain roared through his body and mind. When he was released, he was shoved gently backward; only his iron will kept him standing on his feet when all he wanted was to crumple to the floor and scream.

A low throaty chuckle escaped the Alpha.

"That was good. Impressive even. You might make a decent wolf yet. You've earned the right to look at me, cub."

Jackson looked at the Alpha, took in the monstrous form now with awe and fear in equal measure. This creature had…accepted him…made Jackson like himself. Jackson did not have to be afraid…well, not _as_ afraid anymore."

"You may have been a better choice than McCall." The monster growled. Slowly, he shifted back until he was once again a mild looking thirtyish young man.

Jackson sneered, suddenly full of a strange cold bravado. He struggled to speak steadily, though the pain increased tenfold while he did so.

"If…if you had…chosen me…you…would already be…be avenged."

Derek drew in a breath sharply at Jackson's daring, but the younger teen's eyes never wavered from Peter's.

"That's either a wild boast or a daring challenge, Jackson. How, pray tell, would this have occurred? Keep in mind that I despise braggarts."

"They wouldn't have known… about me. They're overconfident. They make mistakes. Allison could have been mine when… she broke up with Scott. I get in the house for a 'meet the boyfriend' dinner… and slaughter them while their hands are full of… appetizers instead of weapons." Jackson was still gasping in pain as he struggled to get the words out.

Peter laughed out loud, and even Derek looked mildly impressed.

"About a 35% chance of success, more than I would have thought. And you would find it so easy to kill? It's not like in the movies, you know."

Jackson gave a little half-smile that caused Peter's grin to vanish. Even Peter had never seen anyone smile with a ripped open shoulder before.

"What do you think? For this kind of power? To get on your good side? I'd have committed murder… just to be Captain of the Lacrosse team. I actually considered it when they made McCall… my goddamn co-Captain."

"I see. Ah, the cold-bloodedness of Generation Y. Or is it Z now? McCall is part of my Pack, regardless of his faults. I will have cooperation between you two. The rivalry ends now. I am impressed with you, Jackson. Don't forego my favor for the sake of petty high school drama. Lacrosse is no longer important. You are playing with the adults now, and it is time to put away childish things. Am I understood?"

Jackson looked unhappy, but nodded.

"Yes, Sir."

"Go home, and if you are alive tomorrow then come back here after school. No one save for Scott is to know you've turned."

"He'll tell Stiles." Said Derek and Jackson together.

"Ah, the Stilinski boy. So resourceful. Another possibly useful asset. No worries. Get you gone and rest up. Big changes lie ahead."

Jackson crumpled his shirt up and pressed it against the open wound, hissing, and left the house. They listened to his Porsche drive away.

"What's happened? Why have things changed?" asked Derek respectfully.

"Are you telling me you regret not having the chance to eat that young man?" asked Peter softly.

"No. I didn't want to, but I realized the necessity. There's more to him than I thought, but I'm not sure it was a wise idea to turn him." Peter stiffened. "But there was no other choice. I am merely suggesting…respectfully…that you watch your back with him."

Peter nodded absently.

"Like I do with you, nephew? As for the reason why I am altering our plans…well, I have the most wonderful news. I've found my mate."

Peter laughed at the bewildered expression on Derek's face.

"Who?" A connection was made in Derek's mind. "No…_her_? But-"

Derek could have finished that sentence in any of a dozen ways, all of which were likely to get him killed. He knew Peter was telling the truth, and he also knew well the power of the mating drives and instinct. If Melissa McCall was the one, then that's all there was to it. Derek's mind reeled as he considered how things would have to change now.

"It was unexpected. No one is more surprised than me. If she accepts me…Derek, there's a chance I'll be myself again. My only capacity to feel emotion…_my very soul_… is riding on her answer. If she says no, we go back to the original plan, and you get to be Alpha. If she says yes, then I'm afraid I'll have to cling to life again. That's fine with you, isn't it?"

Derek's eyes smoldered. "Whatever you think is best." Lying was pointless.

"Good. Wish me luck, nephew." Peter left to return to wherever it was he stayed. Even Derek was unaware of the location. He had hoped he would get to avenge Laura, but it looked like goddamned Scott's goddamned mother had to throw a monkey wrench into his plans. Leave it to the McCalls to be a family of screw-it-ups. Derek growled, and retired to his own hidden lair.

Melissa McCall woke up the next morning feeling more alive and well than she ever had before. It was almost like she woke up ten years younger. She got out of bed and marveled that the morning sluggishness that usually refused to leave until after her fourth cup of coffee was gone. Maybe first dates energized you in some way…especially when they looked so promising. She whistled, then hummed and finally sang out loud her favorite Patsy Cline song 'Crazy' while she showered. She put on her robe and sat before her vanity ready to try to cover the burgeoning wrinkles with about ten layers of Oil of Olay. She started at the reflection she saw before her.

This was impossible…

The skin on her face was toned, creamy and smooth. The wrinkles around her eyes, mouth and on her forehead were gone. Did Peter slip her some Botox? She got up and went over to the full length mirror, dropping her robe to the floor. Only a woman who paid such close attention to her body as Melissa McCall did would have noticed the subtleties…but they were there. A scar on her left knee, present since childhood when she had tripped and fallen on a broken piece of glass was gone. Wrinkles that had crowded around the base of her neck were gone. Her breasts lost the only slightly noticeable droop developed in the past year. She bit her lip. One more change to check before she whirled around like a madwoman on a mountaintop in the Sound of Music. She turned around and shrieked as she glanced over her shoulder. Then she examined her thighs. The cellulite, which stubbornly persisted even after months of Pilates, had disappeared. Tears started pouring down her face. Some fairy had come and taken ten, maybe fifteen years off of her. Melissa was a nurse, no one knew more than she that this was impossible. Yet, here it was. All the tiny imperfections that together gave her an ever decreasing sense of self-esteem…vanished overnight. She was firm, taut…and goddamnit, _hot._ Maybe Peter wouldn't bolt for the door the first time he got to see this.

She flushed thinking about it, embarrassed that she was already thinking of having a sexual relationship with him. Wait a minute, screw that. She had lived the life of a nun for years, and deserved to have a little more fun. She glanced in the mirror again and saw the almost unknown look of confidence on her face. Oh boy, when she finally said yes to that hunk of man, was he going to get a big goddamn surprise…and she hoped he might have some surprises as well.

Melissa dressed, forgoing make up almost completely (just some lipstick and eye shadow) and just arranging her hair (and was it thicker and longer and even shinier than yesterday? She thought it was) the way the younger nurses did, as if she were not a nurse but an adult film actress playing one. The dark wavy hair spilled over her shoulders, the tendrils bouncing with almost a life of their own. No split ends that she could see either. She spritzed on some Opium perfume and nearly gagged at how overpowering the odor was, but she grew used to it after a minute. She hadn't worn the fragrance in months, maybe it had gotten stronger somehow. She went to put on her false diamond stud earrings when she realized her earlobes were whole again. That couldn't be, her mother had it done when she was two, for crying out loud…

A door slammed, distracting her, and she knew Scott was up and showering for a miracle, so she nipped down stairs (still high on this weird morning energy she had tapped into) and made him an enormous breakfast of pancakes, scrambled eggs and bacon. The bacon smelled heavenly to her, and she kept snatching pieces of it off the plate, rocking back on her heels in pleasure with each bite.

She heard Scott's bathroom door slam, and a minute later he came stomping down the stairs in jeans and a Beacon Hills Lacrosse team letter jacket. She had forgotten he was now co-Captain, and she swelled with pride in him once again.

"Morning, Mom." He said absently, stealing three pieces of bacon before tearing into the other food like a shark coming off a hunger strike. He was in the middle of his second plate when he got a really good look at her.

"Jesus, Mom. You auditioning for a rock video today instead of going to work?" he said around a mouthful of eggs.

Melissa laughed. "No, but thank you for the compliment. Just thought I'd try things differently, now that Date # 2 is on the horizon. That comes around less often than Leap Year."

Scott swallowed the eggs noisily.

"Mom…just be careful with him. There's a lot of stuff he's not telling you, and I think you should hold off on letting yourself…get carried away until you find out everything about him."

"You sound like you know more about him than I do. Is there something you want to say?" Melissa's ears tingled, and suddenly the sound of Scott's heartbeat was audible to her.

He debated what to say that would not earn him Peter's fury. Melissa actually heard the heartbeat skip as he said:

"No. I'm just worried about you."

He got up and left for school, leaving Melissa with the stunned surety that her beloved son had just lied to her.

Melissa drove to work, now listening to Gloria Gaynor's 'I will survive' on her Classic Hits CD. After she punched in and made her first set of rounds with her assigned patients, she filled out her reports in record time and forwarded them to the correct doctors. All of the nurses and not a few of the doctors gave her compliments, especially Dr. LaMar, who directly supervised her. Since her rejection of him some time ago, he had been cold and brusque towards her. Today, he acted as if he had never seen her before. He kept engaging her in conversation, as if he had a chance after making her work schedule a living hell for years. Instead of being flattered, the attention was starting to aggravate her. She felt a pulsing in her jaw as she, for the third time in as many minutes, gently pushed his hand off her shoulder.

"Excuse me, Doctor. Nature calls." She escaped to the ladies room where he could not follow, and got her breathing under control. She was furious with him; what was it with some men that they felt they had some right or privilege to invade her personal space when she obviously didn't want it? The more she thought about what she would like to do to him, the more her blood boiled. She gave a short scream and punched the metal wall of the toilet cubicle next to her. The wall dented noticeably, and Melissa pulled her hand back and stared at the damage. When did she become the She-Hulk? She checked her hand for injury and found none, though the pulsing had now spread from her jaw to her whole head.

She closed her eyes and made an effort to calm herself. Had she looked into the mirror just then, she might have screamed at the sight that awaited her, but she avoided doing so until she was sure she was calm. Taking a deep breath, she exited and returned to her desk. LaMar was gone, thank the gods.

Her phone beeped with a text message.

'Thinking about you. Movie tonight? Peter.'

Melissa punched back 'Sounds wonderful.' All the tension left her, and she basked in the (wanted) attention the handsome pharmaceutical rep was giving her. Finally, a decent man found her attractive. She just hoped that whatever Scott was going on about was just overprotectiveness and not something major. She hadn't wanted something like this so badly in such a long time. When things ended with Robert, she felt like someone had torn out her heart and eaten it. She hoped Peter wouldn't make her feel that way, she didn't think she would survive it.

Speaking of Robert…she checked her bank balances on the computer and saw that the deposits for child support and alimony were late…again. She sighed, fuming only slightly at his passive aggressive antics. He was now making a fortune, and he begrudged her the comparatively tiny portion of his earnings that she needed to raise his own son. This occurred at least once every three months, and she thought it was almost his way of forcing her to keep in contact with him. He always sent the money when she did, claiming absent-mindedness. Maybe he'd remember if she scratched a reminder into his flesh with her fingernails. The thought gave her a surge of grim pleasure. She continued with her work routine, all the while indulging herself in the back of her mind with alternating erotic fantasies of Peter and violent ones of Robert.

{}{}{}{}

Scott found Allison already in class ten minutes early, and he hopped in the seat beside her.

"We have to talk. There are things you need to know." he said slowly.

She looked at him, dark circles under her gorgeous eyes. Things were bothering her more and more lately, and not just having to do with him. He suspected she was learning exactly what her family business was. Given the turn matters had taken lately, Scott would need to help enlighten her fully…and quick.

She got up, grabbing her bag and he did the same. Finding a quiet spot in the hall he looked at her, wishing he didn't have to do what he was about to. He was likely going to lose her forever, but he would rather that than have her come to harm.

"You know I've kept things from you. Your family has secrets too, and they're connected. God, Allison, the truth is a bombshell. It's gonna to destroy how you look at your life…you still want to know?"

Allison shook her head, her eyes brimming.

"Scott, I can't _not_ know. Everyone has been lying to me lately, but they…are getting worse at it. Or maybe I'm just paying more attention now. I feel like everybody is in this 'club', my family, even you. And I don't get to be in it. The worst thing is, I feel like the reason people don't want me in it because they think I'm weak, or fragile. I'm stronger than any of you give me credit for. Whatever the big secret is…I can handle it. Just tell me."

Scott looked searchingly in her eyes, but he still couldn't be sure she would not just freak out.

"There are two clubs, Allison, not one. And they hate each other. I'm in one club, your family is the other. We're almost like Romeo and Juliet."

"What are you talking about, like a secret society? Just tell me!"

"I can't tell you. I have to show you. God Allison, I don't want to do this because I know I'll lose you!"

"You'll lose me if you don't, Scott." Allison folded her arms.

"Let's go. I can't do this here at school."

They managed to get off school property without getting caught, and Allison drove them into the woods around Hale property, though Scott kept them well away from the actual house.

"The day before you got to school, something happened to me. That creature that's been attacking everyone? The one that tried to kill us in the school? Well, it was a werewolf."

Allison stared at him. She opened her mouth to speak, her eyes narrowed in disbelief. Scott held up a hand, silencing her.

"Allison, it bit me."

Her eyes widened at the implication of what he just said.

"Scott, this can't be true. You aren't…" She stopped herself as puzzle pieces began to come together in her mind.

"I'm going to show you. But you can't freak, you can't panic…and God, Allison everything depends on this: _You can't run._ I have some control, and I promise I won't hurt you. If you run, it might set me off. Stay still until I shift back. You promise?"

Staring, Allison nodded.

Scott felt the Beta phase overtake his features, and Allison took in a great hitching deep breath.

"Oh my God…oh, my, Scott…" Her feet twitched, and she made a half-turning motion when Scott growled at her. She froze, and looked back at him. The glowing amber eyes…the fangs jutting over the lips…Jesus, the claws…this couldn't be Scott…

When she showed no signs of moving, Scott relaxed and closed his eyes. He reached out one razor tipped hand toward her. She almost stepped back, but then struggled with herself and made her own hand gently take his. The wolf like features seemed to melt away as she watched.

Scott opened his brown eyes to look at her. His expression was so…_lost…_she felt her heart beat painfully in sympathy for him, despite everything.

"Before you say 'Why didn't you tell me?'-"

"Why _didn't_ you tell me?" she interrupted.

"Isn't it obvious, Allison?" he sat back on the ground, and out his head between his knees.

"It's ok to run now. I won't follow you." His voice sounded hoarse, and she realized he was crying and trying not to let her see.

"God, I don't want to be this way, I have to hide it from you, from my Mom, from your family…always afraid I'm gonna hurt somebody…"

"What does my family have to do with this, Scott?" Allison was still in blank shock over what she had just heard and seen, but mention of her family acted like a slap to the face.

He looked up at her, his eyes red, and his face flushed.

"They're werewolf killers, Allison. It's what they do. Your name is Argent, Jackson told me it means 'silver'."

Amazingly, this revelation rocked her even more than the first. More puzzle pieces flew together, but there were still some gaping holes.

"What else?" she asked, her voice steady.

"Derek Hale is a born werewolf. So was most of his family. He tells me that they never hurt people though, they just wanted to be left alone. _Your_ family has a code about not killing unless there's a reason to…but Allison, your Aunt Kate burned Derek's family alive six years ago, even humans and kids. She's a cold blooded killer. The pack leader, or Alpha, was a survivor of the fire, Derek's uncle Peter. He's the one that bit me, and he's killed everyone your aunt got to help her, and now only she's left. He's going to kill her."

Allison shook her head.

"No, Kate would never do something like that…"

"Allison, I saw it! Peter showed me, don't ask me to explain how! It's true! She's evil, Allison. Or crazy, or both. You wanted the truth? I told you that you wouldn't like it. Peter wanted me and Derek to help him take her down, but I've been fighting him. He can control my wolf though, and it's getting harder to fight. And now, God, this sounds crazy, even to me…he's dating my Mom."

"WHAT?" Allison for a moment wished she had listened to Scott's warnings and kept herself ignorant. Her life had gone from slightly troubled to television show ridiculous in one hour.

"Okay. Tell me everything you know, from the beginning. Slowly. Scott, don't lie or leave anything out. Start." She sat across from him, looking intently at him while he slowly, stumblingly got the whole story out. She questioned him about parts she didn't understand, and he answered her as truthfully as he could. When he was done, she at last had the whole picture in her head. The puzzle was finally complete. God help her.


	3. Chapter 3

Jackson Whittemore was having a great day. After waking up to find his shoulder unmarked (and that godforsaken scar on the back of his neck too), he wasted no time heading to school for their early morning scheduled practice. Within half an hour of heading onto the field, it was obvious he had attained all the gifts being a werewolf had to offer. His lifelong goal of being the best at everything had finally been achieved. Lacrosse practice was a joke; he made shots with inhuman speed and accuracy, plowed through defensive lines like a juggernaut and singlehandedly proved himself to be the single most important player on the team…and then told Finstock he was resigning as Captain. "I'm sure Scott can handle it." Jackson said with a smirk. The best part of it all, was that Scott McCall was nowhere in sight. Finstock went ballistic that he missed the days practice so early into his new career as co-Captain, and now the coach realized he may have been foolish to place so much responsibility on the newbie while alienating his star player. Jackson would bet his Porsche that Scott got canned from the team altogether if he missed another one, and Finstock would beg Jackson to come back. That suited Jackson just fine; Scott was the only threat to the throne Jackson worked his tail off to acquire. If only he could get Peter Hale pissed off at him enough…Actually, it would be pretty awesome if Derek, Peter and Scott all killed each other, and the Argents too. Jackson would be the only werewolf in the area, maybe even an Alpha like Peter. Then he could run the whole goddamned town…not that he'd hang around here long. His parent's money would take him wherever he wanted to go. He could finally have it all. It was all possible now that the one factor that was beyond his control had been dealt with; getting the goddamned bite. One day, that arrogant jerk Derek and Mr. Grand High Exalted Mystic Alpha Werewolf Peter Hale would know exactly what it meant to mess with Jackson Whittemore. Jackson suddenly sniffed, and his gaze was drawn to the bleachers where Derek Hale was sitting, watching every move he made. Derek waved when he saw Jackson looking. Jackson growled. He couldn't decide who he hated more…the annoying Beta or the irritatingly dangerous Alpha.

"I don't mind telling you the rules once, but twice is beyond my patience." Jackson muttered to himself. He would have to remember that line when he started recruiting for his own Pack.

{}{}{}{}

Scott finally answered Stiles' frantic texts around lunch period. 'I'm with Allison, had to tell her everything. I'll call you later. Watch out for Jackson.' Stiles stared at the text, disbelieving. Scott must have lost his mind. How did Allison handle the news? Scott would tell him later. And what was that about Jackson? Speak of the devil…

Jackson swaggered down the hallway towards his chemistry, looking like the proverbial cat that ate the canary…and all of its newly hatched young. He caught sight of Stiles, and gave him a grin that made Stiles feel like icewater had just been poured down his back. For a moment, Jackson's eyes were a bright amber.

'Jesus H. Christ. This is it, world. Evil has a new name: Jackson Whittemore.' thought Stiles to himself.

Jackson walked right up close to Stiles, who backed up into the lockers with a hard slam.

"Hey buddy. How's it going?" Jackson flashed a few too many…and way too sharp teeth at the terrified teen.

"Good, Jackson. Lose anything lately? Like, oh I don't know…your fucking humanity?" Stiles breathed out in a hissed whisper.

"Humanity is overrated. Be a good little pup and maybe I'll see that you get into the club someday. Tell Scott I said he's as good as canned if he misses practice again. That means an open slot on the team…and I know just the guy who could get it, if he stays on my good side. My bad side means you disappear until I have time to digest. Oh, and I dumped Lydia, so if you feel like getting some of my sloppy seconds, have at her. She's a bit bossy, but I get the feeling you like that. Hope you enjoy the goddamned 'Notebook'. Later, 'Biles'."

Jackson walked off, leaving Stiles furious, scared and frustrated all at the same time. He held himself back from a whispered insult to salvage his dignity, knowing Jackson would probably hear it and come back to eat him. This werewolf stuff was getting to be too much for him. Scott threatening to kill him was one thing. They were best friends. Jackson, on the other hand…it seemed time to focus his research on how to protect himself from werewolves. Stiles sent off a few expletive-riddled texts to Scott, and Derek for good measure, then went to his own class.

{}{}{}{}

Peter Hale watched with amusement as the ridiculously expensive Porsche made its way with difficulty over the dirt road leading to the Hale house. Derek stood behind him, his blue-green eyes threatening to burn a hole through the window.

Jackson entered the house, not a lick of fear smell on him. He took in Derek with little interest, but nodded his head respectfully at Peter.

"Jackson, it appears you have been a naughty little boy. I understand you were quite a star on the Lacrosse field today. Also, you seemed to have given young Mr. Stilinski a hard time. Did you threaten him?"

Jackson shrugged. "No more than I usually do. I thought I was being nice, even offered him my ex-girlfriend, and told him I'd try to get him a spot on the team."

Jackson's heartbeat was steady. Peter was a trifle surprised. "And the Lacrosse? My wishes were clear that you give that up."

"Forgive me, Sir, but you also asked me to keep a low profile. Quitting Lacrosse all of a sudden would do nothing but attract attention to me. I resigned as Captain. I'll pull out of the team altogether at the right time. Trust me, high school is a minefield when you're popular. This is the best way to do it."

"I see. Next time you wish to be inventive when following my orders, you will clear it with me first. I was going to have Derek make you eat your own heart, but in light of this news I'll just have him beat you into unconsciousness."

"Should I stand there and take it, or may I try to stop him?" asked Jackson, the Beta shift coming smoothly to his features.

"Oh, do fight back. I always love seeing my cubs establish the pecking order." Peter gestured magnanimously.

Jackson whirled around to find Derek already almost on top of him. The older Beta got in a good swipe across Jackson's chest, destroying his letter jacket, and about $200 worth of shirt. Derek pulled back, smirking, ready to see Jackson shift back to human from the pain and beg for mercy. He did neither, but instead slammed his fist into Derek's gut, then gave him a double fisted crushing blow to the back while Derek was bent over sending him flat into the burned wooden floor. Derek coughed up blood as Jackson straddled him and dug his claws deep into the back of Derek's neck.

"Just something I owe you, buddy. Pity you won't feel it as long as I had to." Jackson whispered.

"How…how did you…" Derek coughed up more blood.

Peter rolled his eyes. "What my nephew is trying to mumble, is how did you maintain your shift with your chest ripped open? Pain always makes Betas revert human, especially new ones."

"Kinda saw this coming when I spotted Derek waving to me on the bleachers. Took my Mom's pain medication before I got here." Jackson grinned.

"It could not possibly affect your werewolf metabolism…"

"It did when I took the whole bottle."

Peter laughed and clapped his hands. "Bravo. Very well, you are forgiven. Further infractions will be addressed with me, however, and all of the Oxycontin in the world will not keep you from the agony I can inflict. Now, on to more important things. You have an assignment. Get close to Allison Argent, and report back to me what she might know about ourselves, her family…and where her allegiances lie. I'm to be informed of every detail, no matter how small. Now go."

Jackson bowed his head again and left, just as Derek was getting to his feet.

"Vindictive little shit, isn't he. I was right; he never forgives a slight, and he never completely obeys. He'll try something. Mark my words."

"Consider them marked." Murmured Peter. "Now, I have a date to get ready for. Mind the house while I'm gone? I won't be late, but don't wait up."

The coldness had Peter fully in its grip. He longed to find his mate so that she could once again reawaken the dormant spark within him. Being dead inside was useful in dealing with rogue cubs and formulating plans to destroy his enemies, but now that Peter's soul was once more within his grasp it became increasingly imperative that he get it back and banish the coldness once and for all. Otherwise, when the enemies were destroyed and vengeance satisfied, it would only turn on him and make him self-destruct.

He arrived at Melissa's an hour ahead of schedule, and sat there watching the house. Her proximity was already working its magic; his heart rate quickened and he felt a rush of different emotions: love, caring, tenderness, the desire to protect. He wanted to live, to bear children and raise them strong. He wanted to increase the size of his Pack until none could stand against them. He pondered this beautiful fantasy for nearly the whole hour, and might have sat there for an hour more if she had not come outside to check her mailbox. She noticed him and waved, smiling. He got out of the car and approached her, the dissonant chorus of his feelings suddenly reaching a harmonious crescendo of terrifying beauty. It was not possible…she was more radiantly beautiful than ever, a goddess descended to earth from high Olympus. A smile broke over his face, unforced and fully expressive of his joy. Then her scent hit him and he stopped dead, the smile vanishing off his face like a magician's trick.

'Dear gods…how had this happened?' Melissa gave off the intoxicating musk of the newly turned. She was Pack.

"Peter, is anything wrong?" she asked.

"No, of course not. Forgive me for saying, but you look…_amazing_."

She blushed. "Thank you. I woke up this morning and felt like a new woman."

"Liss, did anything strange happen during our date last night?"

She chuckled, and his eyes questioned her. "You called me Liss. My father used to do that. Most people shorten my name to 'Mel', like I'm a male fry cook in some diner. Liss sounds like a fairy tale princess. But our date? No, nothing strange. What do you mean?"

"Did I…hurt you, physically? Without realizing it?" Kissing alone could not have passed it on.

"Oh, no…oh! Well, it was nothing, really. When you kissed me, I think you must have bitten my lip. You just got a little carried away. It was right when that waiter interrupted, and I thought you were going to rip his throat out."

Peter remembered the kiss, and the taste of blood. He assumed it came from the Alpha's teeth briefly emerging and retracting. The gums healed instantaneously, but there was sometimes blood. He had bitten her during that kiss, and it was apparently enough to cause the change…but everything he knew about his own people denied this. Werewolf lore (of which Peter was an expert even among his own kind) stated the bite always had to be deep, or it wouldn't take and the victim would surely die. How had she lived? Because she was his mate? And the $64,000 questions: Did she know yet? Did Scott?

The charade could not go another step farther. Melissa had to be told, or she would find out for herself and turn on him with Hell's own fury.

"Melissa…we have to talk."

Her guard went up instantly at the words, an expression of sadly _expectant_ dismay crossing her features. Gods, how many times has this woman been betrayed? Disappointment was a fact of life for her, and it burned him like fire to know that this time he was the cause.

"Look, whatever it is, if you think we're moving too fast, or if you need some space, I'm fine with-"  
>He stopped her with a kiss, unable to bear her following this pointless turn of thought.<p>

"Liss... I have a great many things to tell you, things that I'd wanted to keep hidden until you were ready so that you could make the right decision. I took one choice away from you already, and I'm afraid your next will break my heart beyond repair."

She looked at him with wondering eyes, having no clue what he was talking about. Perhaps she was wondering if this were an elaborate ruse to end things with her quickly, now that he had grown tired. If she knew how badly he desired her, she would likely flee this instant, unless…no, he couldn't allow himself the pain of hope.

"Peter, whatever you have to tell me, I'll try to understand. Come inside."

He followed her into the house, and further evidence of her transformation was evident in the home that this day boasted a level of cleanliness and organization straight from the most stringent housekeeping magazine. The wolf had energized her, washing away the limp feeling of tiredness she always felt at the end of her shifts. She had put that energy to good use, instinctually fortifying her lair…her home. Peter sat beside her on the couch in the living room, but the closeness was too much. He stood and paced, throwing her the occasional worried glance.

"You asked me never to lie to you, and I haven't since then. But there were a few that I told you when we met."

Melissa said nothing, waiting for him to continue.

"I am Peter Hale. I survived the fire that consumed my house and recovered in your hospital over the last six years."

Melissa put her hands to her mouth. She recognized him then from when he was originally brought in all those years ago. His recuperation was in a different ward than the one she oversaw, and his burns had been very severe, but she now wondered how she could have missed it.

"Why did you tell me you were a pharm rep?" Her cheeks began to color, and her eyes began to shine.

"Liss, I'll tell you all, but the story has to come out in order."

She nodded, resolving to remain quiet.

"The fire…destroyed the human part of me…the part that feels. I thought it was dead forever, but I was wrong. You woke it up again. My intentions when I met you were less than…sincere. But by the end of that first night, you turned my world upside down. I have never felt like this about anyone in my life."

Melissa put her hands up to her ears. Peter smiled.

"You can hear my heart, can't you?"

She nodded, looking frightened.

"Did it skip when I mentioned my feelings?"

"Skip?"

"I am a blue nosed baboon." Peter announced gravely.

"Oh! Like that?"

"Yes. That's what happens when someone lies. Now listen to this: I'm falling in love with you, and all I want to do is protect you and Scott. Did it skip?"

Melissa shook her head. "No. How can I hear this? What's happening to me?"

"Liss…the Hale family isn't…wasn't…human."

"Not HUMAN? What on earth are you talking about?"

"You haven't wondered how my burns healed? It happened slowly, but it did. We are creatures out of legend, and you would know our name if you heard it. Please, don't be afraid. I would rather die than see anything happen to you."

Melissa was breathing rapidly, and her eyes were beginning to take on a golden tinge.

"Calm yourself." He spoke softly, putting a subliminal Alpha command message into the words. She complied almost against her will. The glow faded. "Are you ready to hear what I am?"

"You're a werewolf." She said, surprising him. "The animal attacks in town…the legends about that fire…you're telling me that it's true?" But she knew it was.

"Kate Argent, sister of Chris Argent, in-law to Vivian Argent, aunt to Allison…she started the fire. She burned my family alive, including those who were human…and children. They barred the doors from the outside, and used a flammable liquid that left no trace. She used local criminals to carry out the task, informed of the chemicals she needed from Adrian Harris, and bribing an insurance adjustor to rule it an accident. The Argents hunt our kind, but they follow a code not to hurt peaceful people, like us. Kate broke that code, exacting petty revenge for some trivial falling out with my nephew Derek. I see that fire as if it were yesterday, I can still feel the flames licking at my skin…the rage drove me mad, and in that madness I challenged one of the two survivors of the family to acquire her power. My niece Laura, now the Alpha with her father…my brother dead. I destroyed her."

Peter looked down, unprepared for the wave of guilt and remorse that swept through him as for the first time he witnessed the event through the spyglass of his living soul. A sob broke from his chest, and he collapsed to the floor as the emotions ravaged him.

"Oh, God, Laura…_I'm so sorry! What did I do to you, my brother's child…" _The words choked his throat up tight, and he lay there red-faced almost unable to breathe. He was no better than the scum that did this…he deserved to die…Derek had the right to kill him…

Melissa's eyes were filling with tears. Although she was shocked by this confession, she couldn't help but pity the weeping man on her living room floor. She could not imagine what it had been like going through what he had.

Peter sat up with his knees pulled to his chest, his face wet with tears.

"I will live with the guilt of what I have done to my dying day…which may be very soon now if my nephew has anything to say about it. I'm a monster, Liss…except when I'm around you."

"Peter, what does that mean? Why does any of this have to do with me?"

"Werewolves mate for life, Liss. When they meet the one they're meant to be with, they know it. You were meant for me…but you have to decide if I'm meant for you. If you say yes, I get my soul back, and can stop being a monster. If you say no…I'll be the thing that I was…forever. Please, don't say anything until you've heard the rest of it. The next part involves Scott."

Melissa straightened up. "What about Scott?"

The front door slammed open and shut, and Scott walked in as if summoned. He took in the two of them, and then sat next to his mother with his hand clutching hers. The familiarity between Scott and Peter was obvious…they had met long before the first date. She began to get very nervous again.

"I needed help to destroy Kate Argent. She is a formidable opponent, trained in combat and lethal weapons like all her family. I could not do it on my own. I needed more soldiers for my war. One night, when I was hunting in the woods…I saw a young teenage boy. I bit him, and made him one of mine."

Melissa turned to Scott. When he turned golden yellow eyes on her, she leapt off the sofa. And then, it was Scott's turn to shout as his mother returned a similar gaze to him. Scott whirled on Peter.

"_You promised you wouldn't turn her!" _he lunged at him, claws extended. To destroy the boy, or even hurt him would earn Melissa's undying hatred. Peter could only look on with sad eyes as the claws whistled through the air at his face. Before they struck, Scott yelped as he was yanked backwards. A fully transformed Melissa held him easily in the air by the collar of his jacket.

"Go to your room, and don't come out until I say." she growled at him menacingly before dropping him to the floor. He swept Peter with a baleful look before retreating up the stairs. The ethereal gaze fixed on the broken Alpha.

"Scott almost killed you. You would have let him." She seemed taken aback by this.

"And he would have become the Alpha. Derek's facial expression would have been priceless." Peter made a feeble attempt at a smile. "As I said…I would rather die than hurt either you or Scott."

"You turned my son into a werewolf…and me as well. Was that an accident?"

Peter nodded, shamefaced. "Scott could have been any boy, he just happened to be there. It was almost Stiles…but even the gods don't have that much of a sense of humor. I intended to use you to get Scott to cooperate with me and help me with Kate. That plan was abandoned before we even arrived at the restaurant when I realized what you were, and I was your slave from that moment on. I would have asked you if you wanted to join me down the road. But that kiss…I never meant to do it, and to be fair it shouldn't have worked. That I did this without permission is the latest in a very long list of things I would give my life to take back."

"Are there any others?"

"Scott's rival Jackson. He was jealous of Scott's new powers and was relentless in wanting to acquire them for himself. I gave in to his wishes rather than kill him, even though he threatened to expose Scott to the Argents, but only because Scott requested I let him live. Derek is the only other. Kate knows about Derek, but does not know my human identity. She also knows there is a second Beta, but has been unable to discover that it was Scott. Jackson was only turned last night. Liss, if she finds out our identities…she will kill us all. Unless she is destroyed first."

"Are you asking me for permission to kill Kate Argent?" she asked.

"No. I have to do it, now more than ever. Before, I was avenging the dead. Now, I have to protect the living. Even if it costs me you…I would rather have you alive and hating me then dead at Kate's hands. And with that knowledge, do you think you could ever return the feelings I have for you?"

"I married a monster before, Peter. I don't know if I can handle doing it again. You've already done more damage to my son and I than Robert ever has. I can't believe I'm not throwing you out of this house now. I care about you, Peter. But I can't make the same mistake twice. It wouldn't be fair to Scott and sure as hell not fair to me." Melissa turned away from him.

"I know, and I'm sorry. The only difference between your ex-husband and myself is that…he was a human who became a monster. I'm a monster that you can turn human. You and no one else on earth. I'm going to leave now. Think about everything I've said…I'll respect your decision."

Peter got to his feet. The choice lay in her hands, and if she decided against him, it would not be the result of deception. He left the house.

Melissa climbed up the stairs to Scott's room. Knocking gently, she opened the door at his mumbled invitation.

Scott sat in a chair facing the window, his hands gripping the armrests.

"Why'd you stop me from killing him?" asked Scott.

"Because it would have made you even more of a monster, in more ways than one."

"That the only reason?" And Melissa knew that Scott could also detect a lie. She considered her answer.

"If you're asking if I have feelings for him, the answer is yes. I shouldn't, but I'm beginning to think this 'mystical mate bond' he was talking about works both ways. Since your father, I've never had feelings for another man. Peter isn't the only one dealing with reawakened wants and needs. Like him, I believe this is my last chance _ever_ to feel anything."

Scott's head dropped down to his chest.

"Mom, I can't tell you to turn him down. But if he told you everything, then you know how dangerous it is to be around him, even if he is in love with you. Death follows him, follows all werewolves."

"Well, since I'm in your club now, it seems that ship has already sailed. Scott, why didn't you ever come to me about all of this?"

Scott shook his head. "You'd-"

"-never understand?" Melissa finished for him.

Scott nodded.

"I'd say you're finding me remarkably understanding now. Besides…it's not all bad."

"What do you mean, it's not all bad?" Scott's eyes were wide.

"Well, for one thing, I look great. For another, your father is going to get a memorable visit from me the next time his support check is late."

Scott laughed, although tears had begun to pour down his face.

"Mom, everything is so different now…" his face was crumpling and twisting in on itself, so Melissa stepped up to him and cradled his head onto her shoulder in a warm hug while she stroked his thick and unruly hair.

"We'll handle it Scotty. We always get by. You know how tough we are. Tougher than ever, now." She spoke in a soothing whisper.

"All I can think about is Kate and the Argents coming for you, for us."

"Peter won't be her biggest problem if she lays a finger on you, Scott." Melissa said in a matter-of-fact voice. Her tone chilled Scott, and he looked up to see her in full Beta phase.

"Ok, I will _never _get used to seeing you like this."

Melissa looked at herself in Scott's bathroom mirror. The effect was surreal, the predatory beauty that would send men running for the hills even as they became aroused against their will. Melissa looked closely at her amber eyes, opened her mouth to peer at the prominent fangs, and the steel-like razor sharp talons she sported at the ends of her fingers. Her body was solid with smoothly defined muscles that enhanced her femininity rather than detract from it. The hair was thicker, wilder and all the more alluring. Hell, screw the hunt, she could make the prey come to her. Scott joined her at the mirror in his Beta phase.

"The family portrait guy is going to have a heart attack this year." Scott joked.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N – A little more plot development here, I'm on much firmer ground now about where this will go. Haven't decided on all the ships yet, although the Scallison haters will be blind by the end of this chapter lol. It's weird writing Jackson this way when he was sympathetic in so many other stories, but ah well. Perhaps redemption is possible…or not. Would love to hear your thoughts/suggestions!_

Kate was the first to comment on how quiet Allison was during dinner.

"What's the matter, honey? Scotty giving you any trouble? Just let me know and I'll rough him up for you." She smiled as if she were joking, but Allison noted that her eyes remained cold.

"No, Scott's fine. In fact, we had a great talk today." Allison said softly.

"Was that during the time you were AWOL from school?" her father asked.

Allison glanced up at him.

"After the first time, I gave the school instructions to call me if you failed to attend class. I heard from them today."

"It was during. It wasn't planned or anything, but there was serious stuff we had to talk about, and we didn't want to do it at school. I went back afterward."

"I know. I have to say, I'm not happy with the idea that Scott is causing you to miss school, but that's not even what I'm concerned about right now. What was the nature of this serious talk?"

"You're not pregnant, are you?" asked Kate bluntly. Chris flashed her a disbelieving look. Allison was horrified. Even Allison's mother Vivian, as unflappable as anyone she had ever seen blushed slightly.

"Kate, I am quite sure that Allison knows better than to-"

"God, I'm not pregnant, it's nothing like that. I'm not even ready for-"

"The subject is being changed as of now. Allison, I don't want there to be any more missing school because of Scott. If this happens again, you will have to stop seeing him." Chris made it clear with his tone that this was the final word on the subject.

Allison, who had seriously been considering breaking up with Scott already was surprised to feel a sudden urge of resentment and defiance leap up in her. Before she even realized she was speaking, the words "That is never going to happen. Get used to it, Dad." were out of her mouth.

Even Kate, who had always urged Allison to take a stand against her father had a surprised smile on her face. The smile disappeared when Kate noticed the venomous look Vivian was giving her.

"That does it. I will not stand for insubordination. You stop seeing him, or else-"

"Or else _what_, Dad? You going to shoot him with something from the weapon vault?" Allison was amazed at her own daring, all the more because she suddenly realized how strongly she felt about Scott. Nothing was going to stand in the way of their future. Not the werewolf thing, and not her father.

"Oh, I doubt it will be necessary to shoot him. I assure you that after one small conversation, I could get him to walk away." The threat in her father's eyes was obvious. It never occurred to Allison how much of a _hunter_ her father was…until now. Both her mother and Kate had that same predatory feeling about them. Perhaps this was what hunting evil werewolves had done to them, but could she really believe they would hurt Scott? Or kill him?

Allison looked at Kate. From what Scott had said, Kate was even further gone. Scott wouldn't lie about that, but it just couldn't possibly be true. Kate was tough as nails; they all were. But a cold-blooded killer of innocents? Allison decided that she needed to learn how to be tough as nails too if she was going to win independence from her father and get to the bottom of the Hale fire mystery. She closed her eyes for a moment, and marshaled herself for what would surely be the beginning of a world class argument.

"No, you won't do that."

"Allison Amanda Argent!" Vivian put down her wineglass and gave her daughter a high intensity glare. "You will not speak that way to your parents! We have only your best interests at heart, and –"

"Mother, I-"

"_Don't interrupt me!_" said Vivian, in that sudden whipcrack manner that always made her jump.

Allison would have been terrified even just the day before, but today…things were just too huge to put up with this nonsense anymore. She slapped her hands on the table and shot to her feet.

"_Don't YOU scream at me! I have had it with being treated like a two year old! I am seventeen, and I have never once in my life done anything that would embarrass or upset you two! I have shown you I am smart, capable, have common sense, and my whole life you've been keeping me in the dark about what our family does!"_

Vivian recoiled as if slapped, and Chris was staring at her as if he had never seen her before.

"What do you mean…'what our family does?'" asked her father. His voice was as chill as the grave.

"You're werewolf hunters, Dad." She pulled out her necklace with the Argent crest. "You thought I would never find out? The Beast of Gevaudan? We Hunt That Which Hunts Us? The animal attacks that happen in every town we move to, which of course end right when we are about to leave? Goddamn it Dad! How stupid did you think I was?"

Chris was flabbergasted. He literally did not know what to say. "Honey, we only wanted to protect you-" He stopped as Allison reached under the table and pulled out her giant compound bow.

"Dear God-" said Vivian.

"Holy shit!" exclaimed Kate. Vivian gave her an irritated glance.

Quick as thought, Allison had an arrow nocked. In one smooth motion she raised up the bow, took aim, and fired the bolt across the length of the dining room, all the way into the family room and into the forehead of a marble bust of Nero which shattered on impact.

Allison looked down at them, seeming to be standing taller then any of them remembered. Chris was open-mouthed in shock. Vivian just kept looking at the shattered bust and blinking. Kate was awestruck.

"And who exactly are you protecting me from, Dad? Because _you_ kept this from me, you have put me in more danger than ever before. I almost _died_ in that school, because I had no idea what was going on! I will be eighteen in two months. If you can't stop treating me like a child, those two months are going to be a living hell for you. Then I will go to school somewhere far away, and I can get by with scholarships and a job if I need to. You won't ever see me again. If being protected means getting lied to, then I'll take my chances on my own. I think you'd be surprised at how well I'd do, since it's obvious you never had any faith in me."

"If this is what going out with Scott is causing you-" began her father

"GOD! You don't get it! YOU caused this! _I_ was going to break up with Scott, because he was trying to 'protect' me too! You have no idea how _alike_ the two of you sound!" Allison had enough. She grabbed her bow and stormed off to her room.

"That went well. I'll refrain from saying 'I told you so.'" Kate muttered. Chris and Vivian glared at her.

Allison was not surprised when Kate knocked on her door. She entered, giving a quick glance backward as if afraid of being seen, and shut the door behind her.

"I have to say, kiddo, I am impressed. I don't think I ever saw my brother so dumbfounded in his life as when you pulled that giant bow out of nowhere. You really made your point."

"For all the good it does me. He's going to keep on doing it, I can tell." Allison slumped backward on her bed.

"Maybe you'll understand better when you have children of your own, but I for one never thought he was handling things with you the right way. I'm glad you know about the monsters we have to exterminate now. That's one of the reasons why I'm here. You know about the killings. We are dealing with one evil mother of a werewolf."

"The Alpha?" Allison asked.

Kate's eyes narrowed. "Yes. How do you know about that term?"

"Research. I'm not an airhead, you know." Allison lied, careful not to look at her aunt when she did.

"Never said you were." Kate continued to regard her silently.

"Aunt Kate, are _all_ the werewolves evil? Do they _all_ need to be destroyed? I thought our family motto said otherwise."

"I felt the way you did, a long time ago. But trust me, they are all rabid and they all need to be put down. Good hunters have been bitten only to turn on their friends. They need to be killed along with anyone who tries to hide them or help them. You'll learn that sooner or later, even if you don't believe me…and I can tell you don't."

Allison glanced back. "Let's just say I'm keeping an open mind…either way."

Kate shrugged. "You find out anything, I want you to let me know first thing. Your father is too…traditional, always waiting until there are killings before taking action. I say if we wipe them all out now, we save even more lives. They…always…kill. You mind your wise old Aunt Kate now."

The bedroom door opened, and Vivian stood there.

"Allison, you have a young man downstairs who would like to see you." She stated this formally, as if to an important dignitary. Kate rolled her eyes and walked past a stiff Vivian, giving her an amused smirk.

Allison went downstairs amazed that they would let her see Scott, when she saw that it wasn't Scott.

It was Jackson.

He gave her his 100 kilowatt smile, and Allison could tell that in the two minutes he had been chatting with her parents, he had endeared himself to them. Didn't hurt that he drove a Porsche either. Jackson and Chris were chatting like old friends, and Vivian brought him a bottled water. Kate was openly giving him the once over, and seemed to keep trying to peer at his neck.

"Allison, hey sorry for the unannounced visit. I just wanted to stop by and chat."

"Hey Jackson. Sorry, I think I'm probably grounded. I cut school with Scott today, and I-"

"No, don't worry about that, honey. I am going to think about what you said. Why don't you let Jackson take you out of the house and get your mind off everything." her father said this as if he were bestowing a great boon instead of obviously hoping she would fall for Jackson and dump Scott.

Kate looked startled, but kept quiet.

Allison really didn't want to be alone with Jackson considering what Scott told her, but she didn't think he would try anything. Besides, this might give her a chance to find out more about the Alpha that was planning on killing her aunt.

She grabbed her jacket and followed Jackson out to the car.

"Diner?" he asked.

"Sure."

They drove off.

The Beacon Burger Barn flashed by them; Jackson showed no signs of slowing. Allison was about to ask where they were going (slightly worried now) when they pulled into the parking lot of an expensive steak house. She had never been with Scott, this was far outside his budget.

"Don't we need a reservation?" she asked.

The host stood up straight when he saw Jackson and immediately started fawning before leading them to a secluded table in the back. He handed them the heavy leather bound menus and had sparkling waters served up without them asking.

"I recommend the Porterhouse, or the Prime Rib." Jackson murmured.

Allison scanned the menu, noticing that there were no prices listed…at least on hers anyway.

She decided on a grilled chicken Caesar Salad, while Jackson asked for the 16 oz. Sirloin.

"So, Jackson…what's on your mind?" she asked.

Jackson seemed to squirm in his seat. "Well, you know how you've been saying that no one tells you what is really going on? I thought it was about time you-"

"I know about the werewolves, Jackson. And you."

She thought he would be surprised, but he took it right in stride and almost seemed to sigh in relief. "Oh, good. This felt like coming out of the closet. So, Scott finally decided to man up and confess everything, huh?"

"Yes. But why did you want to tell me now?"

Jackson looked shocked. "So you don't get hurt!"

Allison smirked. "Jackson…Scott told me how you were threatening to blackmail him if he didn't make you a werewolf. If you were doing this because you cared, you would have told me as soon as you knew. You got what you wanted anyway, so why bring me here now?"

"Scott told you everything? Even how your Aunt is going to try to kill us all? How all the killings in this town were people she put up to helping her cause the Hale fire?"

Jackson pulled out an envelope of recent obits and news articles downloaded from archival databases…Danny had gotten them for him when Jackson called in a favor.

Allison looked through the articles and matched them up with the names on the obits.

"This doesn't prove anything…"

"Allison, Mr. Harris all but confirmed to Sheriff Stilinsky that the woman who approached him was wearing _your_ necklace. When Peter told me about Harris, I confronted him. He admitted everything." Jackson pulled out a small tape recorder and replayed the conversation. It was definitely the chemistry teacher's voice.

Their food came, and Jackson set to with gusto while Allison stared at her salad.

"Sorry…this condition comes with an appetite."

"I bet it does. My aunt told me that all werewolves eventually kill. If she knew about you, Jackson, you might make her hit list."

"I don't doubt it. Look who else made her hit list. The victims of the Hale fire." Jackson showed her a handful of pictures.

The first was of a serenely beautiful woman with jet black hair sitting in a well-appointed room. A young teenage boy stood in the background.

"Diana Hale, and her son…Derek." Allison looked, her throat closing up.

"Erick and Peter Hale, Derek's father and uncle." Another picture. Two smiling men, their arms on each other's shoulders.

"Henry Hale, his partner Michael, and their children Edgar and Annie." Two handsome young men clutching two toddlers who were giggling and squirming.

"Luther Hale, his wife Elena and sister Alice." Two women, seated in rockers next to a man smoking a pipe. They seemed to be in their fifties or sixties.

"Roger Hale, his pregnant wife Janet, and Laura Hale. Roger and Laura were Derek's siblings." A ruggedly handsome man with his smiling wife, the husband with his hand on the swollen belly with a huge proud smile on his face. Laura, the dark haired beauty stood smiling nearby. Someone had drawn on the picture with a pen "Godmother!" with an arrow pointing to Laura.

Allison began to cry. "Why are you showing me this?"

"So you can make a choice, Allison. Scott no doubt told you that Peter is coming for Kate. Kate is already coming for Peter and the rest of us. _You are going to lose people you care about, however this goes down._"

"What the hell can I do?" she asked.

"Choose a side. That should minimize the casualties."

Allison shook her head. "I can't."

"You have to. I know she's your aunt, but she's evil…and she had less excuse than that when she killed the Hale family. She has to be stopped. You can save your parents-"

"What the hell do my parents have to do with anything?" Allison nearly screamed.

Jackson gave her a condescending look.

"Allison, if your folks know that Kate was killed by a werewolf, they will declare a vendetta, and they will never believe Kate had it coming. They will go up against Peter and Derek, and they may win or they may lose. But if her death looks like an accident…"

"I cannot believe you are sitting here asking me to help plan my aunt's murder."

"I told you, death is coming whether you do something or not. The question is, who deserves it more?"

"Nobody _deserves_ death, Jackson!" As she said this, she looked down again at the pictures of the children, and the pregnant Janet.

"Peter won't go up against your folks unless they come for him. You have to keep that from happening."

"_They_ might kill this Peter character… my folks have been doing this a long time. Why are you _his_ best friend all of a sudden?"

"Best friend? I wouldn't say that. But he is my boss in a way." For now, Jackson thought.

"Would you help me kill Peter if he tried to hurt my parents?"

"I'll help you keep your parents alive…but your aunt? I won't save anyone who would put a knife in me as soon as we were safe. She is seriously bat-shit crazy. Would you see her dead if she tried to off Scott?"

Allison was again taken off guard by her own feelings as a sudden surge of fury swelled within her at the thought of anyone harming Scott. What the hell was happening to her? It was almost like her emotions had taken on a life of their own.

"She would be stopped." Allison said coldly. Jackson pulled back at the scent of menace that was radiating from her. Suddenly, she seemed to snap out of it.

"Jackson, please take me home. I-I'm not feeling well." Allison began to rub her temples as if she had a headache.

Jackson looked at her with a genuinely puzzled expression. However he thought this evening would go, this was obviously unexpected.

"Okay Ally. Let's go. I'll get you back home." He gathered up the papers and photos and escorted her to the Porsche after exchanging a few words with the host. Within half an hour, she was back in her room, watching from her window as Jackson said goodbye to her parents and sped away into the night.

Allison pulled out her cell phone and sent Scott a quick text. "I need to see you. I'll leave my window open." Less than ten seconds later a reply appeared. "I'm coming!"

She sat there in her silent room, a feeling of aching emptiness in her chest that only one person in the world could fill. Allison was intuitive enough to know that these feelings were stronger than they should be, and from what Scott had told her it seemed Peter Hale was not the only werewolf in this town to decide on their true mate.

She resolved to keep herself calm and composed. If Scott thought this was going to be an all-night make-out session, he was sorely mistaken. Ten minutes later, her window swung open and he dropped lithely into the room. He was only slightly sweating, and as her heartbeat quickened in excitement she only had time enough for a fleeting thought 'What's happening to me?" before she was in his arms and pulling at his shirt, scratching him in her eagerness to get it off. He gave her that soul-melting smile before gently pulling her arms to the side with one hand and reaching behind his head to pull the shirt over it with the other. Then she was rudely shoved backward onto the bed, her nails raking new scratches into his back as he growled with pleasure, his eyes smoldering as the wolf within him shook itself awake. He tore off her blouse, and was licking and nibbling at every inch of exposed skin he could find. She did the same, catching the new points of his ears in her teeth while she ran her fingers through his thick hair, pulling and pushing him where she needed him to go. They both lost all control then, and as they pulled their remaining garments off, Scott pinned her arms over her head on the shuddering bed, and with brute force sent himself into her, his mouth covering hers and muffling her short excited scream. Her legs locked around him, he as much her prisoner as she was his, urging him to greater and greater effort. Then he spun her around without disengaging in a move Don Juan would have applauded, and they coupled as did the beasts of the field, wolfish instincts blotting out all thoughts of tenderness and comfort. He shifted fully as he grunted, she felt clawed hands grip her shoulders as growls were wrung continually from both of their mouths. The climax when it came, was like a thunderclap in her soul and it was only with every ounce of will they possessed that they kept from screaming or howling their triumph into the night.

They showered together afterward, and he lay beside her, completely enthralled with her presence.

"I feel like I just surfed into a tsunami…full of werewolves." she said breathily.

Scott could only nod his head dumbly, drained and fulfilled in the way that all first time lovers enjoy. And with only a slight feeling of worry and regret, she felt the thin cord that bound the two of them become as a heavy chain…unbreakable.

{}{}{}{}

"It was bizarre. I actually think she'd give up Kate for Scott. She seemed…surprised at how she felt." Jackson shrugged his shoulders, unsure how to make what he had seen and sensed plain to the Alpha. Peter smiled and gestured Jackson over to him. Jackson obeyed uncertainly, and in an instant the Alpha had him down on the ground completely pinned with the giant claws sunk into the boy's neck. Peter saw the evening play out in his own mind as if he were there, this crude method of communication useful for transmitting or receiving experiences… an ability unique to Pack Alphas. Peter used it on Scott to show him the Hale fire and the torment Pater had suffered, and now Jackson screamed as he felt his mind invaded, panicked that Peter would read his thoughts and discover the hatred Jackson felt for the Alpha, Derek, Scott, the Argents and practically the whole goddamned town… but he sensed instinctively that the power did not work like that; it communicated sensory experiences only, like an amplified form of racial memory. Peter withdrew the claws, and Jackson looked at him fearfully.

_"What the hell did you do that for?"_ he shrieked, trying to stanch the blood seeping from the wound.

"I needed more detail than you seemed willing to provide." Peter shrugged. He pondered this turn of events, knowing things about werewolves and their mates that the young Beta did not. It was surprising that Scott found his mate at such a young age when Peter had only found his so late in life. The Alpha thought Allison nothing more than a schoolboy crush…but this turn of events looked promising. Betas had it a little tougher than Alphas, who could turn their own mates and answered to no higher authority. Scott would eventually be compelled to bring Allison to Peter as part of their bonding process, and formally request permission from his Alpha to accept her into the Pack. In the old days, if an Alpha found the mate worthy, the human would be bitten and turned. If not, the reject was slaughtered so that a new prospect could be found. Of course, as the breed had been 'domesticated' over the centuries, this ritual was merely a formality. There hadn't been a 'rejection' in over 500 years.

"It looks like we may have an Argent in the Pack soon, Jackson. My ancestors will be spinning in their graves. This bodes very well for Scott and very badly for Kate." Peter's eyes flashed crimson at the mention of her name. "Perhaps a double wedding will take Chris and Vivian's mind off of her funeral!"

Jackson still stood there glowering at Peter, his rage making him forget the fear and respect that would keep him alive. He kept silent…but his stance, his scent…and the low menacing growl coming from him all suggested challenge.

Peter grinned. "No hard feelings, boy. You'll heal soon enough. If I wanted to _really _hurt you…" Peter swung his arm into Jackson's chest. The teen flew backward, slamming into one of the burned walls of the house. The breath whooshed out of him, and he saw only blackness for a few moments as the wolf's relentless healing factor reversed the concussion and cracked spinal column the blow caused him.

The rage did not dissipate, but Jackson was reminded that he lived only at Peter's sufferance. If Peter thought this would instill respect, he was wrong. Jackson was more determined than ever to see him dead. The rage changed from boiling to frozen as Jackson put his emotions in check.

"Good lad. You may find this hard to believe, Jackson…but I like you. You're focused, ambitious…qualities even Derek has lacked over the years. But you will remember your place in this Pack. Now, kneel there, eyes down until I leave. After that, you may go home. Keep your cell on and charged at all times in case I need you."

Jackson did as he was told, the coldness sweeping through him like wildfire. He remained there for almost an hour after Peter left before the agony in his knees finally grabbed his attention. The ache quickly faded. He felt…dead inside, and yet triumphant. A plan had coalesced in his mind, a way to be rid of all of them. It would be executed with cold precision, and none of them would see it coming until it was too late.


	5. Chapter 5

Lydia was extremely unhappy. There was once a time when she felt she had control of everything in her life, and now that control had slipped completely away from her. Her parents were getting a divorce. Lydia thought that by living life on the edge the way she did, she could distract them from their squabbles and get them to focus on her, but short of getting pregnant or doing drugs they didn't seem to even bother to notice what she was up to. Maybe she could declare herself a lesbian and convince Allison to play the part of her girlfriend…no, they would never believe it. How about pregnancy then? Not a real one, but she could start stuffing her clothes to make her belly seem fuller…no, she would get a reputation at school that would be tough to live down even when the truth became known. She needed a scandal that would make her seem even more edgy than ever, a scandal that would earn her points rather than take them away…damn it she couldn't think of one. She called Allison, but her phone was off, which meant she was with Scott. Jackson was out, as he seemed to have overdosed on Asshole pills. She had once been close with Danny, but when he 'came out', they drifted apart…she had nothing against him, she just didn't want to be that girl that clung to gay guys. That left only one person…Stilinski. Her expression soured as she thought of him, but then perked up. He had a talent for mischief, and would instantly know how to solve her problem. She hopped into her Corvette and sped over to Biles…oops, Stiles house. She was dismayed when she noticed his Jeep gone from the driveway, but the Sheriff's cruiser was there. Maybe he would know where Stiles was…maybe she could even up the Sheriff's estimation of his son by implying she was intimate with him. Then Stiles would owe her one.

She checked herself in the mirror, saw that she was as always perfect, and knocked on the door. The Sheriff answered it and looked her up and down, swallowing nervously. Well, it seemed awkwardness around women ran in the family.

"Ms. Martin, what could I do for you?" he asked when he composed himself.

"I was looking for your son. Stiles and I have become _close_ lately, and I've been missing him. So I thought I would surprise him, but he isn't here." She pouted, as if she were four years old and Christmas had been cancelled.

"He said he was staying the night at Scott's. That might even be true. Sorry I couldn't help you."

Lydia knew that couldn't be true, unless Allison was into threeways. Lydia smirked at the thought; Allison's idea of kinky was taking off her bra.

She debated trying to seduce the Sheriff, just letting it go far enough to have evidence for her parents, but then she chided herself at the thought. He was a genuinely decent human being…he let Lydia get out of about a dozen tickets because he knew Stiles had a crush on her, and probably never even told his son.

But, she couldn't help but tease. "Thank you, I'll give him a call. I just got a new cell, and haven't programmed it yet. Could you remind me of his number? I am such an airhead I don't remember it."

"555-4518. You want me to write it down?"

"Nope, got it. You tell him…that I _came_ for him. Bye, Sheriff." She blew him a kiss.

The man just blinked at her, nodded once and shut the door.

Lydia programmed her phone and dialed the number.

It picked up on the first ring.

"Lydia, what's going on? How did you get my number?" Stiles' breathless voice asked.

"How did you know it was me? You know my phone number?" she asked, creeped out.

"Yep, had it since High School started. My dad's a cop you know."

Lydia shook her head, and wondered what the Sheriff's face would look like when she asked him to file a restraining order against Stiles.

"Where are you? I want to talk to you."

"I'm at a motel-" Stiles suddenly grunted in surprise, and muttered a nearly inaudible protest. She heard him hiss at whoever was in the room with him. "I won't tell her who I'm with!"

"Stiles, who are you in a motel with?" The universe had gone insane. Stiles was getting sleazy hotel sex, and Lydia was shunned by the world.

"That was the maid. No, Carmelita! No cleanee room! I will call _la migra_!" Stiles gave a surprised 'oof' as someone attacked him. More hissing from the awkward teen. "For the love of…just lay there and look pretty until I'm ready for you!" Lydia heard a distinctly _masculine_ growled retort and nearly dropped her phone. It was possible, if you believed the quantum physical concept of string theory that he had somehow slipped into a parallel reality.

"I see you're busy…with the maid…so I'll let you go. See you at school Stiles!" She hung up, started her car and roared off to the town's only motel. The 'Beacon Hills Inn' should have been renamed 'The Beacon Hills Den of Illicit Sex' but the seedy dive stubbornly refused to change it. Lydia quickly located Stiles' Jeep parked directly in front of one of the rooms and knocked on the door. Less than fifteen minutes since she ended the call…who did Stilinski think he was dealing with anyway?

"One minute! Ouch!" shrieked Stiles voice from the other side. The door opened and a shirtless Derek Hale stood there.

"Clever, Lydia. You always this relentless when it comes to sticking that pug nose where it doesn't belong?"

"Speaking of putting things where they don't belong, how long have you been boning Stilinski? Or is he boning you?" Lydia knew her nose was pert and cute. She gave it a quick pat to reassure herself. Her eyes raked over Derek's torso. Damn, 'Tall, Dark and Brooding' had a rocking body.

Derek smirked. "Are you writing a book? Would you like a _blow by blow?_"

Derek was suddenly elbowed out of the way by an insistent Stiles. Derek gave a pained gasp, and Lydia realized that Derek was wounded. An enormous wadded bloody bandage covered his side, previously hidden by the door.

"I SAID go lay down!" Stiles growled at him.

"When I am well, I am going to do to you what they do to turkeys at Thanksgiving: _tear the meat slowly from your bones, and then have a nice nap when I've finished devouring the pieces!"_ Derek emphasized this threat by making pulling-apart gestures with his hands.

"We have company! No cannibalistic threats!" Stiles glared at Derek, who sullenly and painfully reclined on the motel bed.

"Get in here, Lydia. No one was supposed to know about this."

Lydia told him to hold on, and grabbed a first aid kit from her car. She laughed to herself on the way for thinking that the two were having an affair. Derek was way out of Stiles' league.

"Nice job bandaging him, Stiles. They could have used you in Ancient Egypt." Lydia put on rubber gloves and gently pulled the bandage off a surprised Derek. What was obviously a bullet wound made her suck in her breath.

"I'm guessing the bullet isn't out?" she asked grimly.

Derek nodded, and Lydia marveled that he had been able to stand or keep from looking like he was in pain for that whole charade at the door. He let his features relax now, and she felt pity for him.

"Be right back." She retrieved a small vial from her car, and opened it, pouring a small amount of white powder into one hand.

"Lydia, is that…" Stiles asked, horrified.

"Cocaine. Yes, it was Jackson's. He tried it once, and didn't like it. I gave him an ultimatum about using it again, but he left the rest in my car. I've been meaning to throw it away."

"Derek's not sniffing any cocaine!" Stiles yelled. He put his hands on his hips and gave her a glare that Derek would have been proud of.

Lydia's eyes widened, and Derek's eyes flashed to Stiles and back to her. Maybe there _was_ something going on between the two…or there was about to be.

"She doesn't want me to _sniff_ it Stiles! Cocaine is a topical anesthetic. It is often used for medicinal purposes…like this."

Lydia rubbed some of the small bit of powder on the skin around the wound as gently as she could. Derek inhaled sharply, but did not cry out. Soon the entire area was numb.

"Derek, I want you to look away, and not turn back until I say." Lydia pulled out her deluxe nail care/grooming kit, and wiped the instruments down with alcohol. She probed the wound carefully with a cuticle pusher and felt it tap a small bit of metal. A large pair of tweezers deftly plucked the metal slug from the wound. Lydia put a healthy amount of antiseptic onto a cloth and wiped the area down. She turned to fetch a large square bandage to cover the wound, and was preparing to tell Derek he was going to _have_ to go to the hospital. She didn't know why he was in a sleazy motel trying to get Stiles to play Doctor (she gave an involuntary snort) but he could get a massive infection. She opened her mouth, but noticed that Derek had passed out…and that wasn't the most alarming thing…

The bullet wound closed itself as she watched.

"Guys, what the hell is going on here?" Lydia was up and backing away from Derek. His color, unnaturally pale, began to return slowly to normal. After a minute, his eyes blinked a few times and then opened.

Stiles sat down and was rubbing his face, sighing in frustration. Lydia grabbed the bullet and wiped it free of blood. The metal shone brightly at her.

"This is a silver bullet." she said softly. "So, either he was shot by the Lone Ranger…or he's-"

"A werewolf. And now Lydia, you must be silenced." Stiles said dramatically. Stiles was kidding of course, but before he knew it Lydia had given him a krav maga nerve pinch that sent him to the floor in agony.

"I'm just kidding! Let go of me!" Stiles yelped.

Lydia let him up, but still looked defensive. "Spill your guts." she said with finality.

"Interesting choice of words." Derek sighed. "Have a seat, this will take a while."

{}{}{}{}

Lydia was gone an hour later, back to her home to process what she had learned…especially about Jackson.

"Peter is going kill me." Derek groaned.

"We had no choice. I couldn't have helped with that bullet, unless my stomach acid could have dissolved it when I puked into the wound trying to get it out. The other choice was a hospital. If you hadn't passed out, you could have stopped the healing until you were bandaged." Stiles shook his head. "I thought you had a high tolerance for pain."

"How about I stick it in you and see how much you scream?" Derek growled.

"I'm okay with that… unless you're talking about the bullet." Stiles joked.

Derek couldn't help himself, he chuckled and the necessary facial muscles required for glaring stopped cooperating and left him no choice but to smile. He understood Peter so much better now. It was amazing how being with your mate revived your soul. Derek never realized how lost in guilt, anger and sorrow he was until the awkward teen pulled him into the light so effortlessly. The feeling had built within him slowly at first, but came fully awake the night Derek realized who the Alpha was, and that Stiles was at his mercy in the hospital. The entire focus of his existence suddenly became finding and protecting him at all costs. When Peter defeated Derek, he smelled the fear for Stiles pouring off of his nephew. That's when they both knew. Peter had no quarrel with the boy, even in his madness, and offered to turn him if he wanted it, though Derek refused to consider it. Derek arranged to meet with Stiles to break the news to him, but had been shot by one of Kate Argent's flunkies… yet another rookie mistake Peter was going to punish him for. He really was slipping these days. Stiles found him, and drove him to this hotel at Derek's request to try and remove the bullet. Before Lydia arrived, they had only begun to discuss what Derek was feeling.

_Earlier_

"Stiles, you are going to have to help me." Derek gasped out. The silver was preventing his body from healing. A normal bullet would have just been expelled before the wound healed…but silver reduced werewolves to human speed healing until it was removed.

The teen was frantic. "Oh my god, you can't be serious! I can't even cut off your arm this time, Derek! It's in your freaking body!"

"Stiles, it's just silver, not an aconite bullet. Get it out, and I'll heal fine. They don't give the flunkies the top notch ammo." Derek collapsed on the bed and pulled off his shirt. Despite his horror at the injury, Stiles found himself staring at the perfectly sculpted body. He slapped himself.

"Focus, buddy." he muttered to himself.

Derek glanced at him and gave a darkly amused chuckle. "You're drooling."

Stiles nervously checked his mouth, then glared. "Am not. I have no interest in your perfect six-pack. This boy is strictly straight. I love straight sex. After that, I love straight sleep. I'm going to straightly see if I have anything in my straight car to straightly help." The boy ran back in a moment later with a first aid kit that seemed to explode with bandages when Stiles opened it. There was literally nothing else inside it. Derek groaned.

"Gee, that's not right." Stiles looked at the mess, puzzled. The wound was still seeping blood, so Stiles piled the mess of bandages on top and taped it until he could figure out what to do.

"That is _not_ a straight first aid kit. Maybe you could suck the bullet out. With those lips and that mouth, you shouldn't have any problem." Derek whispered, fighting to stay conscious. Why would he say something like that? Oh yeah. He needed to tell Stiles how he felt about him. Good start, Hale. Stiles will fall head over heels for you if you compare him to a blow-up doll.

"Only you could flirt and gross me out in the same breath. Wait, did you just flirt with me?"

Derek didn't answer, his eyes had closed and his breathing stopped.

"Oh, shit Derek! Stay awake until I can call someone and get them over here!" Stiles hopped on the bed and took Derek's face in his hands, bending down low to listen for his heartbeat. He struggled to remember the course in CPR he had taken a month ago. He pinched Derek's nose shut, lifted under his neck with one hand to open the airway, and tried to force air down into Derek's lungs.

Two strong arms suddenly clamped around him, and Derek's tongue found his, the hands greedily roaming over Stiles body. Against his will, Stiles felt himself melting into the kiss as electricity rocked his being. He took control of the kiss away from Derek, and savagely explored the other man's mouth with his tongue. Derek was mildly surprised the teen gave in to his feelings so quickly. So much for his straightness. When he finally let Stiles go so he could get some oxygen, the boy pulled back and stared at him. To Derek's horror, he saw a single tear make its way down the boy's cheek.

"All you had to say was 'Stiles, kiss me.' Not give me a freaking heart attack by pretending to be dead."

Derek looked away. "I'm sorry. I'm new at this. I thought you might only be into 'straight' kissing, and wanted to let you know what you'd been missing."

Stiles chuckled. "I'm not that straight. I didn't think I had a chance…I actually thought you would just kill me if I told you."

"How do you feel about me Stiles? I promise I won't kill you. For this anyway."

"Well, for years I had a crush on Lydia. I convinced myself she was the one because I knew it was impossible and could stop questioning myself. Then I met _you_, and I found myself thinking about you all the time. The more I did, the more I acted like I didn't care, especially around Scott because I didn't want anyone to know…not even me. When you saved me from Peter in the hospital…when you came in there and risked your life for me…I knew that you cared about me. When I escaped, all I could think about was that you might be dead, and I never got to ask you... Then, you call me out of the blue to meet up…but I didn't want to have this talk while you were hurt." Stiles was silent.

"Ok, can I have the short answer instead of the rambling ADHD answer?" Derek took Stiles hand in his and laced their fingers together.

Stiles lip trembled. "This isn't a high school crush like Lydia. I think I'd die for you, Derek Hale. I think I love you more than my own life. If you don't feel the same way about me, then I want you to follow up on all your threats and kill me because I will never stop and I will never feel this way about anyone else. Now I'd like to ask you the same question."

The tears were flowing strong now, and Stiles' voice hitched as he spoke. He looked away. His whole existence hinged on what Derek would say next. Derek opened his mouth to speak…and Stiles' cell phone rang. They both jumped, and Stiles checked the number…Lydia.

He answered the call before it could ring again, and Derek sighed in frustration. The girl had demonic timing.

"Lydia, what's going on? How did you get my number?" Stiles tried to come down from the emotional roller coaster he had just been on.

"How did you know it was me? You know my phone number?" Stiles winced at her tone.

"Yep, had it since High School started. My dad's a cop you know." Ooh, he was in trouble.

"Where are you? I want to talk to you." Stiles choked back a laugh. NOW she wanted to talk, when he was lying on a bed with the hottest man in the whole fucking universe, about to hear what he hoped was a confession of Twilight saga obsession from a brooding werewolf who shared his feelings about as often as a Halley's comet appearance.

"I'm at a motel-" Stiles suddenly grunted in surprise when Derek gripped his hand painfully tight to get his attention.

"Say nothing!" Derek mouthed silently.

"Stop it! I won't tell her who I'm with!" Stiles hissed.

"Stiles, who are you in a motel with?" came Lydia's voice. Geez, she had better hearing than Scott and Derek.

Stiles panicked, and said the first thing his ADHD mind could come up with. "That was the maid. No, Carmelita! No cleanee room! I will call _la migra_! Oof!" Derek had just jabbed a finger into his abdomen.

"For the love of…just lay there and look pretty until I'm ready for you!" Stiles glared and danced out of the way of Derek's homicidal fingers. Derek grinned at the words despite himself, but still growled in annoyance.

"I see you're busy…with the maid…so I'll let you go. See you at school Stiles!" The call was dropped.

"There. I got rid of her, and she is none the wiser." Stiles said emphatically.

"Phones have 'Mute' buttons, you know. I bet she'll be here in less than fifteen minutes." Derek growled.

"I'll take that bet…and if I win, then I get to have sex with you." Stiles joked.

"And if…_when_ I win, what do I get?" Derek grabbed a pillow and waited for the answer he knew was coming.

"_You_ get to have sex with _me_!" The pillow was launched directly into the grinning face.

_Now_

"I _was_ talking about the bullet…but if you have a better suggestion…" Derek grabbed the teen and threw him down on the bed, straddling him. Stiles folded his arms across his thin frame.

"I don't do one night stands in sleazy motel rooms Derek. I have a reputation to uphold."

"Town virgin? Yeah, I could see why you'd want to hold onto that." Derek leaned down and began to nuzzle Stiles' neck, causing the teen to give off a strange sound between a moan and a squeal. Derek liked the sound, and wanted to hear it again. He succeeded.

"No! I mean it! Derek…do you think of me as your mate?" Stiles eyes locked onto Derek's, who pulled back and looked at him quietly.

"You know…about all that?"

"Duh, I am Stiles; chief of Werewolf Research in Beacon Hills. I know _everything_ about them. My freaking home page is Wikipedia for crying out loud. I've even been thinking about writing a handbook for Scott. Now: am…I…your…mate?"

"Yeah. You are... and I'm pretty sure it's forever. That's why we're getting carried away so quickly. You okay with that?"

In answer, Stiles sat up and yanked his t-shirt over his head.

"I want you to do things to me that this motel has never seen before." Stiles whispered.

Several parts of Derek's body lengthened at the words, not the least of which were his canines. As the wolf inside him emerged, the smell of Stiles became infinitely stronger, and he breathed it in feeling that same surging joy in his soul that made him feel really and truly alive. His eyes were a blazing blue, and Stiles gave off not a hint of fear, in fact his arousal seemed to increase. Stiles jeans and sneakers were whipped off by clawed hands, the socks more gently. Derek stripped out of his own jeans, at full mast so to speak. Stiles eyes widened.

"Oh my god…" and now a hint of fear did entwine with his scent…and his arousal became stronger. Derek leaned down and took the waistband of the boy's boxers in his teeth and gently pulled them off him, and now it was the werewolf's turn to look stunned. If Lydia knew what she had been passing up all these years…hell, if the fucking _town_ knew…

Stiles looked down and back at Derek. "What? It's okay, isn't it?"

Derek shook his head. Stiles had no freaking idea. "You…are a god."

Stiles grinned, and Derek fell on him and mashed his lips against that grin which became even wider as they kissed, Stiles' tongue everywhere at once, licking and pulling at lips, fangs, wanting to taste every part of Derek he could. They ground together, body to body and then it was ears that were attacked, Stiles reeling at the strangeness of the pointed tips he gently nibbled with his teeth. Then Derek was on his neck, sucking the flesh until it was wet and purple, and still Stiles clamped him in place. Derek's teeth ached to break the skin, and groaned aloud when Stiles asked him to do it.

"Bite me Derek. I want to feel it." His eyes were drugged with lust, and Derek had to hold himself back from immediate compliance with every ounce of will he had.

"Stiles…it won't…turn you." he gasped, feeling the teeth get even longer in anticipation.

"Don't care. Bite now."

As gently as he could, Derek's four sharpened fangs penetrated the think skin over the muscle between neck and shoulder safely away from the jugular. Stiles moaned and arched upward, and Derek's rational mind was obliterated in the glorious explosion that was the taste of his mate's blood. Stiles clamped his own teeth in the same spot on Derek, biting much harder but unable to break the skin with human teeth. Derek reached up and with one claw opened a small thin cut in his neck. Stiles was immediately licking and sucking at the wound while Derek groaned again and withdrew from his own bite to lick at it roughly, and then all over the neck and chin and cheeks and ears while Stiles writhed underneath. Derek rolled Stiles on top of him, the thin rivulets of blood from the shallow punctures running down Stiles' chest to drip onto Derek whose own cut had already vanished. God he looked sexy, naked and hungry for his mate with that bleeding bite on his shoulder that he seemed not even to feel. He looked at Derek with the gaze of a predator, and Derek knew that Stiles was meant to be one of them. He would tell Peter that he changed his mind, beg on bended knee to turn him if that's what it took. If Peter refused…well, there were other ways to get what he wanted.

Stiles lunged down and attacked once more, this time Derek's chest, kissing sucking and biting his way from the nips down to the chiseled stomach and finally…with no hesitation or finesse… to engulf the werewolf in a mouth that seemed to have infinite capacity. Derek's hands moved automatically to clamp the teen's head in place, Stiles own hands clamped on top for good measure. Derek cried out at the amazing sensation of warmth, of finally being _home_… but no, this wasn't home…this was the freaking guest cottage. Home was very close though, and Derek wanted to go there right now. The hands pushed the boy off, needing more force than he would have thought. Stiles, sensing what Derek wanted got on all fours facing away from the headboard so he could stare into the conveniently placed mirror and watch his mate position himself for the attack. Clawed hands gripped Stiles' shoulders, and he closed his eyes knowing that this was going to be incredibly painful but still somehow _so_ worth it. Derek went in slow, again fighting instinct and letting Stiles adjust. To his surprise, Stiles began pushing himself back, the impatience to be filled up overriding the pain until Derek was buried to the hilt.

"Derek…I want to feel like you're trying to kill me with it. Now." Stiles whispered.

A low growl was all he got before the onslaught began.

They took a shower afterward, and Stiles only had to stand there and surrender to Derek's thorough scrubbing, his hands curled around the curtain rod as his body was soaped head to toe. The concern and care the werewolf took with his mate was in sharp contrast to the brutal coupling of ten minutes ago, but Stiles felt it was perfectly in character. He hissed as the hands gently explored the two centers of pain left over from the act.

"That was dangerous, Stiles. You could have been hurt." Derek whispered.

"You didn't have a problem with it at the time." Stiles answered back.

"You can't ask me to be a rational judge when I'm in the throes of…wolf-lust."

"Same here. I wanted it, I liked it, and you _will_ be doing everything again. And again. And more twisted stuff besides. I have a list that reads like science fiction."

Derek smacked Stiles on the butt.

"Nice, but harder next time."

A much more forceful whack, this time on the other side. Stiles jumped.

"Almost there."

Derek laughed out loud, for the first time in years. He was actually cracking up. Stiles looked at him, and Derek was smiling like a kid in a candy store, all the sourness and scowls and frowns and glares gone as if they had never been…in fact you could never imagine that face doing any of those things. Stiles' throat closed to see it, and his breath hitched to think he might be the cause of it.

"I love you…I can't believe I just said that." Derek said softly.

"I love you more." Stiles sniffed.

"Not possible."

"We'll see."


	6. Chapter 6

A/N – I seem to have most of the major characters set up, sorry for the lengthy plot development (and so many people were wondering if Derek/Sterek were going to figure into it), but this story DOES revolve around Melissa and Peter. It's just that I can't make the whole "mystical mate bond" thing only work for one pairing and not the others, it needs to be consistent all the way through or it doesn't work. So Scott and Allison are feeling it, Derek and Stiles are definitely feeling it…and I can only imagine what's going on in the seemingly split mind of Peter Hale. And then, of course, there's Jackson…

Melissa could not believe her eyes when 12 dozen roses carried by a staggering delivery man made their way over to her station.

"Melissa McCall?" The man said, groaning under the weight of his flowery burden.

"That's me." she said softly. Heads were turning in the crowded waiting room, and she blushed. Down the hall, Dr. LaMar was peering at them, and she could see his frown growing larger. The perfume of the roses began to overwhelm the people in the waiting room, none moreso than Melissa who's nose was quite sensitive these days. She directed the delivery man to place the enormous vase (which she was shocked to see was made of lead crystal) on the counter out of the way. He refused to accept a tip and hurried away, perhaps afraid she might want him to take them back. An envelope made of creamy parchment was tucked in the midst of the stems, and she opened it with some hesitation.

'Liss;

I was hoping we could talk some more, perhaps dinner, maybe dancing afterwards. I will understand if you refuse, and I am not going to press you about any decisions you have before you; in fact I'd like to pretend it is our first date and just talk about …everyday things. It would really just make me happy to see you again. Forgive me if I seem persistent. You made me aware that you do not get to have evenings out very often, so on the off chance you do not have anything suitable to wear, please feel free to shop at the Primrose Boutique, I have established a line of credit there and you may feel free to charge your purchases to my account.

Yours, always…Peter Hale.'

Even reading his name on the card made her heart quicken. Damn it, she just did not know what to do! There was way too much to think about…but he mentioned in the note that he did not want to press her, just see her. From the way she felt about him thanks to their 'bond' or whatever, who knew where the evening might lead…and finding herself hoping that it could lead somewhere, she cursed herself and signed off from her computer. It was time to go home anyway. She looked at the card, and then at the clock. The Primrose Boutique would be open for another three hours.

"And there's my gallant son, Prince Scott come to escort this feeble old woman home!" she said upon seeing him exit the elevator. He looked supremely happy for some reason, which immediately put her on her guard.

"Feeble old woman? If you only knew how much you could probably bench press now…" he grinned.

Melissa laughed. "You're right. Good thing for you I never believed in corporal punishment, or _you_ would be a patient here."

"Aw, I'm not that bad of a kid, am I?" he said, his brown eyes wide and guileless.

"No. You're not. I'm really lucky to have you, Scott."

Scott blushed. "Oh, thanks Mom. Want to pick up some take-out on the way home?"

"I was hoping you might come shopping with me instead. Peter has given me permission to bankrupt him in my search for the perfect dress and shoes."

Scott bit his lip. "You're going to go out with him? You think that's a good idea?"

"I can take care of myself, Scott. And I need…to get to know him better if I'm going to figure this thing out."

"All right. Let's go. You already know how I feel." he turned away and hit the elevator button again.

In forty-five minutes, they were pulling into a parking space outside the swank clothing store.

"Oh my god, they have Jimmy Choo shoes!" she whispered.

"Gesundheit." said Scott absently.

Melissa looked at him, exasperated, before dragging him into the store.

The clerk went from condescending to fawning as soon as she gave him her name.

"Oh, yes. Mr. Hale was quite insistent I be of service to you in any way, Ms. McCall." The man sounded almost afraid, but considering the snooty look he gave her before Melissa felt no pity for him.

"Thank you. I need dresses and shoes, and lots of them. Follow me." Melissa took complete charge and stormed through the store pointing at one dress after another until she had about six that likely cost more than her car and house combined. The shoes, six pairs of Jimmy Choo and each a different color. Some odds and ends, scarves gloves, handbags etc. and then she was being fitted by three different tailors who completed their measurements in record time. Scott was sitting on a pink bench outside the dressing room, asleep when she finally got back into her street clothes. She was nudging him awake when she noticed an auburn haired woman in a fur coat giving her the gimlet eye. Melissa recognized her after a second's thought.

"Vivian. Fancy running into you here." she said formally. She wished she wasn't still wearing her nurse uniform under her plain brown coat.

"Melissa. And Scott. How nice." Vivian Argent did not even bother with a fake smile. Melissa had to give her credit for that at least.

"We were just on our way out. Have a good evening." Scott was still passed out, and a small snore erupted from his mouth. Vivian looked at him as if he were a large spider sitting on a child's birthday cake.

"Do you shop here often? I supply this boutique with some of the most…expensive items. Just browsing were you? Window shopping?"

Melissa reached into her pocket and slipped on her sunglasses. The sunset through the window was harsh and bright…but that wasn't why she was wearing them.

"Not at all, I just bought six of the most darling outfits." The clerk came over with the completed dresses in their boxes, and offered to place them in her car. Melissa followed him out the door and popped the trunk so he could maneuver them inside.

Vivian had followed her out, mouth agape.

"You must have a very generous man in your life…to _pay_ for you like this. I mean, your dresses." Vivian smiled, her cold blue eyes reminding Melissa of a shark in an aquarium.

"Yes, he is quite generous. I guess I'm just lucky…_I _don't look my age… like some women. Keeps the men interested."

Vivian's face froze, but just then Scott exited the store yawning. He spotted his mother and came over but froze when he saw Mrs. Argent.

"Hello, Scott. I hope your mother hasn't punished you too severely for convincing my daughter to cut school with you the other day. I would just feel terrible!"

Scott looked horrified, and Melissa knew without checking her reflection that her eyes would be glowing like lamps.

"Scott would never do anything like that if it wasn't important, Vivian. Maybe Allison needed to talk about troubles she was having…at home." Melissa knew this was a low blow, but she would be damned if she would let this rich uppity witch get the last word in.

Vivian lost all pretense of civility. "The only trouble my daughter is having is with her relationship choices. She's a smart girl however, and catches on quickly when she makes a mistake."

"Your daughter has twice the intellect and insight of women three times her age. Present company included." Melissa shooed Scott into the car and turned toward the door to open it.

Vivian stepped forward and grabbed her arm. "Now you just wait a minute…"

Melissa grabbed the wrist of the offending hand and squeezed. Vivian opened her mouth and took in a great breath…but didn't scream. With surprising strength she pulled her arm free. Melissa glared at her through the sunglasses. "You need to think twice before putting your hands on me, Vivian. If you or any member of your family hurts me or my son…I will take you all down. I have survived things far more terrifying than you. Remember that."

Vivian rubbed her injured wrist and glared at her.

"Oh, I've seen a few monsters in my time…my husband and I have put more than a few of them down. I think you'd be surprised at how fiercely we Argents can defend what we hold precious to us."

"Then we understand each other then. We are both mothers, and we are both protective of our children. Unfortunately for both of us, they are fond of each other. I will not drive my son away by interfering in his personal life…as much as I would like to. You might want to do the same."

Melissa got into the car and drove off, leaving Vivian standing in front of the boutique, her face medusa-like with anger.

Scott was too scared to speak.

"So, you cut school with Allison? Is that really the way I have to find out?" she asked bluntly.

"Mom, I left the school with her to tell her the truth about everything. She was getting ready to break up with me because of all the lies and secrets."

"Funny how we ladies hate being lied to. I understand about that part, but Scott…I feel like I don't know enough about you. I feel like you're going to get hurt, and I won't be able to help you because I don't know what's going on. You don't talk to me, since way before all of this. If you'd been honest with me from the beginning, I would have supported you and helped you…and I would never have gone on that date with Peter. Look where lying and secrets have gotten us! I want your word Scott Alexander McCall that you will keep me in the loop as if I were Stiles. I have never in my life given you any indication that I would hesitate to fight for you."

"But that's just the thing! The things I'm dealing with are dangerous! You could get hurt, or killed! And it would be my fault!"

"And if Peter had decided to kill me that night? _Ignorance isn't protection!_ I am an adult, Scott and you are a teenager. I know you think of yourself as the man of the house, but _I _get to decide if I want to risk my life to protect my son…your life is more important than mine."

"Ugh. Fine. But what are you going to do about Peter?"

"I don't know. Scott, the feelings I'm having are growing by the day. They aren't exactly all mine, but that doesn't make them any less powerful. I believe him when he says he will do anything to protect us, too. He reminds me of your father…your dad had these two personalities. The one that I fell in love with…and the other one. I don't know if he even realized how he was, sometimes he seemed genuinely surprised at what came out of his mouth. I wonder if all men are _split_ like that. Peter at least understands himself better than any other man I've ever met. The idea that if we…are together, that dark part of him will vanish forever…no other man could ever make that promise and keep it. And God, Scott! He wants it so badly! He _wants_ to get rid of that angry part of him! And only I can help him with that. I knew he was for real the night he practically let you kill him. Your father would never have passed a test like that."

"Did my Dad…hurt you?" Scott said this so softly that Melissa had to strain her excellent ears to hear him. Melissa was aware that lying was impossible between them now.

"Yes. Once physically, too many times to count in other ways. The slap was the last straw. I stayed with him as long as I did for your sake…and it was for both our sakes that I left him. I always wondered if you hated me for the divorce."

Scott looked so horrified, Melissa had to immediately pull over. "Scott, what's wrong?"

"You never really thought that…even for a minute, did you?" he asked. "Did I ever do or say something that ever made you think that?"

"No, not directly! But…I don't know. I just didn't expect you to understand why it had to happen, and when you started to pull away I just assumed you were angry with me." Scott's next words broke her heart.

"I thought the divorce was my fault. I was always getting into trouble with Stiles…I thought you and Dad were fighting about me. God, how many times did Stiles listen to me scream and beat myself up over it. I felt so guilty…I even thought about running away if it would make you guys stay together. Stiles convinced me not to."

"Remind me to kiss Stiles next time I see him. No, honey. You had nothing to do with it…I just didn't want your father to get started on you. I really would have killed him."

Scott gave off a deep sigh of relief, as if he was able to put down a heavy burden he'd carried for years. "I guess you're right. We need to talk more. I'm sorry."

Melissa turned the engine back on and they continued the drive home…in silence.

Melissa texted Peter that she would be ready at 6 o'clock the following evening. The next day passed in a blur at work, and though the roses were gone the lobby still smelled strongly of them…at least to her.

She took off at 4, and was home by 5. After a nice hot shower, she found herself with extra time. Her hair just seemed to arrange itself these days, and there was really no need for elaborate make-up routines anymore. She spent the time looking over her purchases, and eventually settled on a black armless sheath that was mostly backless, with straps that fastened behind the neck. She put her hair up, with just a tendril hanging down one side. She had her nails done that morning, and after close examination decided she probably never needed to worry about them cracking or breaking. Before her change they were like tissue paper due to some vitamin deficiency in her diet. Now, they were like steel, and she found herself slicing open envelopes or peeling oranges with vicious ease. The shoes fit perfectly, the thin heels adding some inches to her height. She draped a black silk wrap around her shoulders.

When she opened the last dress box, she had a surprise. A note lay on top of some jewelry boxes from Tiffany's.

"Liss, I instructed the clerk to hide these among your purchases. Hope you don't think me presumptuous."

There were four boxes, and each contained a large pendant on a platinum chain with matching jeweled earrings and gem encrusted bracelets. Four sets, she had her choice of emerald, ruby, sapphire or diamond.

Her breath stopped in her throat. Peter Hale was playing for keeps if he was tossing baubles like this around. Part of her was angry that he seemed to think she could be bought…but she remembered his sincere confessions of his feelings, verified by her new powers, and knew that this was simply his way. Still, she would have to put a stop to it. She really would get a reputation as a gold-digger if she allowed it to go on. Hating herself slightly, she wore the diamond set and secured the rest of the jewelry away in her antique box, itself far more expensive than anything else in it (until now), full of costume jewelry she never had a reason to wear anymore. Thankfully, the new earrings were clip-on.

At promptly 6 pm sharp, the doorbell rang. She made herself wait until the second ring to answer it, and when she opened the door she was already feeling the smile come to her lips. He was stunning, wearing a Hugo Boss tuxedo that fit him extremely well. He took her arm again as on their first date and he whisked her off to the same restaurant without managing to get lost this time. They both had Prime Rib, taking turns feeding each other the pieces and talking only about ordinary things. She mentioned her run in with Vivian Argent, and didn't miss the tell-tale glint of crimson in his gaze at the name. He smiled hugely when she described how she handled herself.

"If I was never in love with you before…" he said, then blushed and looked away. "Sorry, Liss. I promised I would keep things light tonight."

From the way her heart was pounding, he must know she didn't mind.

"No, it's fine. Despite everything…I feel very strongly about you too Peter. I sincerely hope you aren't raiding Derek's college fund to buy me all of these things, because you really don't have to do anything like that. I'm not used to this kind of treatment."

"That's a problem, because I'm burning to do more." From the way he said 'more', he may not have been talking about gifts.

Their hands found each other and laced tight, their gazes locked as they saw in each other that perfect match, that perfect fit and sense of destiny the great pairings of all time must have felt. They were Paris and Helen, Tristan and Isolde, Adam & Eve…Romeo and Juliet. God no, not them.

Later, at the Starfall, a ballroom she had no idea existed about ten miles south of Beacon County, they danced tirelessly (and flawlessly, Melissa's two left feet a thing of the past) until about 11 pm.

"I have a meeting to attend at the witching hour back at my house." he spoke hesitantly. "I called it today after speaking with Derek and Scott. I was going to put it off, but didn't…in case you wanted to see what it means to be the Alpha of a pack. You don't have to go, and it's not anything…bad."

"Scott's going to be there? What's this about?"

"Scott and Derek are presenting their choices for mates. I have to formally accept them into the Pack and give them a Turning bite. Jackson hasn't selected one yet, so he won't be there."

"Oh my god…you're going to turn Allison Argent into a werewolf? Peter…her family…"

"This will be her family. The mates are in danger until they get turned…when the moon is full, desire can… get out of control. This allows the mates to protect themselves. Scott and Derek discussed it with their choices and they agreed to it."

"The Argent's aren't going to be happy." Melissa shuddered to think of Vivian Argent's face when she found out.

"It's inevitable from the moment a werewolf realizes who their mate is. It goes above and beyond compatibility or personality…or the wishes of parents. These things are decided on by forces old and powerful. In a way, it's like fate. We _can't_ choose the wrong person."

"That's great for werewolves. I feel bad for humans now." Melissa thought of Robert…but if not for that 'wrong choice', she would never have had Scott.

"It's definitely a casual wear event, so I brought something for you…this is the last time, I promise! It's not on the level of any of the other clothes anyway, quite simple really. Do you want to go?"

"If Scott's there, I'm there. Of course, I always thought his graduation would be the next milestone in his life… not his 'mate selection' or whatever."

"Let's go then. We have just enough time."

They drove to the Hale house where Peter had set up a small pavilion tent out back. Peter sent Melissa inside where she found, sitting on a wooden table, a leather skirt and vest and sturdy leather boots. The zippers on the items made it look like they were crafted with convenience in mind... one could take them off or put them on in a hurry. She let her hair down and removed the fine jewelry and changed, packing her dress clothes and shoes in an empty suitcase Peter thoughtfully provided. The Melissa that emerged from the tent was not the dark Cinderella that Prince Peter had taken to the Ball; now she looked more like the Goddess of the Hunt, Diana herself. Peter wore only black denim shorts, and Melissa was taken aback at the definition of his body, and the taut muscles that danced under his flesh. God, he must be so strong. His face had a different cast to it, more predatory…and hungry. He turned, and she beheld that he had a great tattoo on his back, a triple spiral design that looked Celtic in origin.

He took her hand and led her into the woods behind the house to a clearing. Stone monoliths dotted the open space, giving it a Stonehenge like appearance. Carvings depicting the moon, manlike figures and not a few fierce looking wolves decorated the stone. A circular dais set into the ground with the same intricate spiral design carved into it dominated the clearing. Peter walked across it, and it seemed to glow with an almost reddish light. Two L shaped stones occupied the far side, and Peter sat on the larger one, gesturing Melissa to join him. She did so, hearing as she did the sound of two cars pulling up to the house.

Scott came first, wearing only shorts much like Peter's. He stood in the middle of the circle and knelt on one knee, dropping his gaze from Peter's. If he was surprised to see his mother, he gave no sign.

"Scott Alexander McCall, First-Bitten. You come to present your mate. Name her." Peter called formally.

"Allison Amanda Argent." Scott said clearly.

"Send her to me so that she may be judged worthy."

Scott turned his head and looked towards the house. Looking frightened and defiant at the same time, Allison came around the house wearing an identical outfit to Melissa's. She joined Scott at the circle and took his hand.

"Allison, do you willingly seek admittance to the Hale Pack, in full acceptance of it's laws, forsaking all other bonds and knowing that there is no return to your old life?"

"I do accept, and offer my allegiance to the Alphas of my Pack: Peter Lewis Hale and Melissa Serena McCall, forsaking all other bonds." Allison lifted her head up proudly; her heartbeat was strong and steady as she spoke.

Melissa gave a small startled squeak.

"Just a formality…she has to show respect for your place in my life." he muttered softly.

Peter got up and approached Allison, looking her over carefully, and even sniffing her on occasion. Scott's eyes glowed yellow and his jaw set, but he offered no other defiance.

"Scott." Peter said softly.

Scott stood behind Allison and gripped her upper arms tightly, holding her in place.

Peter lifted her right arm and leaned his head back to gaze at the bloated moon overhead. His eyes shone with red fire, and his jaw crackled as the new teeth grew. He bit her wrist, then released her and stood back. Allison did not cry out. The blood dripped onto the spiral design, the stains were absorbed into the rock as if they had never been.

Scott led Allison towards a log where they seated themselves, hugging her tightly while she cradled her arm. Peter returned to his seat, wiping his mouth with a cloth from his pocket. Melissa was conflicted about what she saw, it was both beautiful and savage at the same time. While it offended her human sensibilities, the newly awakened wolf in her was excited.

Derek approached next, also in black denim shorts, and knelt in the middle of the circle. Melissa noted the matching tattoo he wore, and wondered if it were required of all the males. If Scott thought _he_ was getting one…

"Derek Owen Hale, Last-Born. You come to present your mate. Name him."

Derek winced at hearing his middle name. Melissa jumped at Peter's choice of pronoun, and then gave a short shriek when she heard Derek respond.

"Genim Stiles Stilinsky."

"Oh my lord, Steven Stilinsky is going to kill me if he finds out I knew about this." She hissed at Peter, who only grinned.

"Send him to me that he may be judged worthy."

Stiles came around the house, his face beet red from embarrassment. In addition to the shorts which he felt ridiculous wearing, his chest and neck featured an assortment of bite-marks, hickeys and scratches. He was trying to cover his whole body with his two small hands, and was so preoccupied that he stubbed his toe and tripped, falling flat on his face on the Sacred Dais. Derek was pinching the bridge of his nose, obviously trying not to smirk, and Melissa noticed Peter trying to hold in laughter. That only set her off as well, and soon the three werewolves were laughing out loud, the solemnity of the moment gone. Derek yanked Stiles to his feet with one hand, his laughter fading when he saw how mortified Stiles was. Off to the side, Scott was covering his face with his hands while Allison's mouth was an 'O' of horror.

"Derek, please rip my throat out with your teeth. You promised me that once, and I'm holding you to your word." Stiles still had his face covered.

"Babe, it's ok. Anybody can be a smooth cold-blooded predator…but getting two Hale men to laugh at such a solemn occasion? That takes real power. I've never been happier in my life than to have you here with me right now, about to join my Pack and become my mate. Please be as happy about this as I am."

"We love you Stiles!" called out Scott and Allison together. Peter made a throat clearing sound at them and they quieted down.

Stiles took his hands away from his face, saw Melissa sitting next to Peter and covered up again moaning.

"Scott's mom is here? Just tell me my Dad is, too. That would make the night perfect."

"Your Dad's not here…although half of me thinks he should be." Melissa called to him. "Stiles, you should be feeling many things right now, but shame in front of people who love you is not one of them."

"Stiles, do you willingly seek admittance to the Hale Pack, in full acceptance of it's laws, forsaking all other bonds and knowing that there is no return to your old life?" Peter intoned formally, still smirking.

Stiles froze, his ADHD driving the words of the oath right out of his head.

Derek growled and took a small piece of paper from his pocket which he handed to Stiles. The boy peered at the words in the moonlight and then crumpled the paper up and spoke his oath.

"I do accept, and offer my allegiance to the Alphas of my Pack: Peter Lewis Hale and Melissa Serena McCall, forsaking all other bonds."

Peter rose once again and approached the pair on the dais. Stiles began to tremble, and Derek dared to growl protectively. The old Peter would have torn them both apart for their insolence and weakness, and the ancient stone would have been drunk on their blood. But here, in the presence of his own mate with his soul intact…and in light of the show young Stiles put on for them…he had an entirely different outlook.

Peter looked Derek right in the eyes. "I'll be as gentle as I can be." Derek stopped growling, and hung his head. This was a very generous response to no small slights on their parts.

"You don't have to be gentle. I'm not weak, and I'm not scared of you Peter. That's not why I'm shaking. I'm scared of disappointing the man standing next to me…more than I already have." Derek sucked in his breath, wishing Stiles had kept silent. Who knew how far the limits of Peter's patience would stretch?

"Brave enough then, to say that to me, pup. A worthy mate for my last living relative. It would make us both proud to have you join us."

Peter looked at his nephew, who stood behind Stiles and grasped his arms tightly. Derek Hale, the avatar of brute strength and lethal instinct…closed his eyes tightly and looked away, unable to watch his mate get hurt. Stiles locked his gaze with Peter's and nodded at him to go ahead.

Peter moved in quick while the moment lasted and bit Stiles wrist as he had done with Allison. Stiles did not even flinch, he may as well have been licked by a friendly pet. Peter's estimation of him grew. Once again, blood decorated the stone.

When Peter pulled back, Scott and Allison ran up and hugged Stiles excitedly.

"You know, you could have told me about you…and about you and Derek. It threw me for a loop when I heard today. And oh my God! Did Derek cover you with ketchup before he tried to eat you?" said Scott, looking at the bite marks in surprise.

"'Thrown for a loop' is an understatement. He spent about an hour staring at the ceiling from my bed and mumbling 'No way!' over and over again when he heard." breathed Allison, still gripping her wrist. To Derek's surprise, Scott and Allison came over and hugged him as well.

"Take care of him, or it's your ass." threatened Scott. Derek gave him a playful shove.

The two couples kissed then, the pheromone scents (all four so different and enticing in their own unique ways) convincing Melissa that though some of the participants involved were younger than she would have liked, the feelings they had were hugely powerful. Scott himself was transfigured by his obvious happiness, and Melissa could not personally remember a time since the divorce when his face had been so completely free of anger and hurt.

_'This is really it for them. They have no doubt whatsoever that these are the people they are meant for, and they aren't wasting any time. Why am I then?'_

She was suddenly resentful and furious with herself and with fate for conspiring to keep Peter and her apart for so long. But for Scott, she might have considered her whole life wasted up till this point. But the change had given her back so many years, as if trying to make up for the lost time…to give them the chance they deserved.

Peter went back to Melissa who was openly crying, thanking the gods she wasn't wearing any mascara. He was clever enough to recognize the source of her tears and let her get them out while he held her hand gently.

"So, was that a keen enough glimpse into the world of werewolves for you?"

"Yes." she answered. "And I've decided…yes…I want to be with you."

Peter's eyes got wide at this unexpected announcement, and she heard his heart hammer in his chest.

"Gods, Melissa, are you sure? Oh…oh my…uh, do you want to…" he nodded towards the dais.

Melissa laughed out loud. "Sure, why not? Three times is a charm, isn't it?"

"EVERYONE! THERE IS ONE MORE PAIRING TO BE BLESSED THIS NIGHT! TAKE YOUR SEATS!" he called out. The other four froze in shock, and looked at each other. Scott's eyebrows were nearly on the other side of his head.

"No way!" he said.

Allison rolled her eyes. "Here we go again!" Scott really needed to learn some coping skills.

Peter took her hand and led her to the stone Dais. When everyone was quiet, he spoke the words.

"Melissa Serena McCall, do you willingly seek admittance to the Hale Pack, in full acceptance of it's laws, forsaking all other bonds and knowing that there is no return to your old life?"

"I do accept, and offer my allegiance to the Alpha of my Pack: Peter Lewis Hale, forsaking all other bonds."

"And I offer my allegiance to you in turn, and elevate you to the rank of Alpha female. Together, we will rule the Hale Pack as one body, one mind…my equal, forever."

Melissa started, not expecting the last part. The other four whispered amazed exclamations under their breath.

Peter turned and looked at the rest of the Pack.

"Now the mated pairs of this Pack must speak. Do you accept Melissa Serena McCall as your Alpha female, and promise to obey her as you would me, and follow her alone should I be destroyed?"

"I do!" shouted Stiles.

"I do!" called Allison.

"I already do!" said Scott, laughing.

Derek was silent.

Peter's smile disappeared. "If you have an objection, present it now."

Derek left Stiles and approached Peter.

"You owe me a blood debt for my sister, Peter. You were not an Alpha when you committed that crime." He said gruffly.

Peter's eyes were cold. His soul hovered both within and without him as Derek Hale made the final decision on its fate.

"I intended to claim your life in payment…but by accepting this woman into our Pack, the soulless monster who murdered my sister will be dead and gone forever…and I will have back the Uncle who perished in that fire. I renounce the debt you owe and offer my allegiance to your chosen mate. May Laura find peace this night." Derek walked off and rejoined Stiles.

Peter took a deep breath and let it out slowly, his thoughts impossible for any there to guess at. He turned to Melissa and looked at her expectantly.

Melissa waited, wondering what happened next since Peter had already turned her. Peter leaned in close and whispered something in her ear.

"What? I have to…oh my…"

Scott looked at Derek. "What does she have to do?"

"To complete the elevation and seal their bond…she has to bite _him_. That's how an Alpha shares his power with his mate…_willingly_ allowing a bite. This way we have an even more powerful Pack."

"I thought the only way to become an Alpha was to kill one!"

"That's if you want to take it by force. The leaders _have_ to be equal. A Beta mated to an Alpha would be in as much danger as a human mated to a Beta."

Melissa and Peter were whispering furiously at each other, Melissa shaking her head in disbelief.

"Liss…I _want_ you to do this. I feel I owe it to you anyway…considering what I almost did to you. As an Alpha, and mother, and mate…you _have_ to be strong. I stepped out of my place with you, and you have to show me I _can't_ do that. You've always been strong, and you've always been fierce. You can do it."

Peter held out his arm, the hand clenched into a fist. She looked up at the moon, closed her eyes, and felt her teeth grow long and sharp in her mouth. Her eyes were a luminous gold when she opened them again, her nails longer and sharper on a hand that gripped Peter's wrist firmly. Still, she hesitated.

"Remember, I bit Scott." he said softly.

Melissa growled and crunched down on Peter's wrist, perhaps excessively considering the sounds of snapping bone split the night air. Peter did not scream, but sweat broke out on his forehead and his eyes squeezed shut in agony.

Peter's blood hit the stone dais, and suddenly the ground underfoot began to tremble as if a sleeping beast were trying to shake itself awake. The red glow from the stone seemed to pour upward into Melissa's body before vanishing within her. Allison (the only one not to turn away in shock) saw Melissa's eyes deepen from a brilliant gold to a fiery crimson.

She released Peter's wrist, and he turned away and staggered back to his stone seat. Melissa wiped the blood from her own mouth with the back of her hand and joined him. She made as if to speak, but he held up his hand.

"Don't apologize. I said what I said to help you do it…but I really did have that coming. I wouldn't have felt right if you let that slide. I hurt your son. It was the right thing to do. A small price to pay for the permanent return of who I was."

"I wasn't going to apologize. I understand how this all works now. I was just going to say that what happened before…is in the past. Clean slate from here on out."

Peter looked at his wrist, the bones had already knit and the skin sealed. Only the discoloration remained.

"These formal bites are always on the wrist. The Norse called it the "wolf's joint" after an old legend…the Fenris Wolf supposedly bit off the hand of a god in payment of a debt. I hope any future disagreements between us…can be discussed." He gave a wry smile.

"So…how is an Alpha different from a Beta? Do we look different?"

"Did no one tell you? Oh, Liss…you are in for one _huge_ surprise."

Scott came up then still holding Allison's hand and gave his mother a hug.

"I guess you _really_ don't need my protection anymore. You can kick all our asses now."

Allison gave her a hug as well, and one to a surprised Peter.

"Congratulations, I'm very happy for you."

"Thank you…are you sure you're an Argent?" he asked. She rolled her eyes.

Stiles pulled a reluctant Derek up to the twin thrones. "Um, my Dad…I might need some time before he finds out about all this."

"He won't hear it from me, Stiles. But if you need me to be there when you tell him…" Melissa left the promise unfinished.

"Thanks. And congratulations." He leaned in for a hug, and Melissa grabbed him tightly and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Hey, what was that for?" he was blushing again.

"For keeping Scott from running away a long time ago. You were a good friend to him. Good luck, I know you'll be happy."

Stiles offered to "fist-bump" Peter. The Alpha male rolled his eyes and complied with his good hand.

Derek looked at the two Alphas. One corner of his lips turned slightly upwards. Then he left with his mate to tell him what was coming next.

"It's not like Derek to get so emotional." Peter murmured sarcastically. "And now for the celebratory hunt." Scott and Allison ran into the woods to the north, Stiles and Derek headed east. Melissa followed Peter due west. When they reached the woods, Peter turned to her, his eyes flaring crimson.

"You ready to change?" he turned away from her and the shorts suddenly dropped to the ground. He kicked them to the side, and stood there naked in the forest as if he owned it…which in a way he did. He was unashamed of his body, and rightly so… his body was an Olympian ideal.

He leaned forward, and his skeleton began to twist and crack. He torso expanded as the limbs lengthened. The skin darkened with hair that pushed out from everywhere with a soft hissing sound. The skull shifted and pushed the lower part of his face outward as scythe-like teeth emerged.

"Oh, Lord. Am I _really_ going to do this?" The vest was unzipped and dropped, the skirt joining it a moment later. Gone were the soft boots. She searched for the wolf within, and it was already rising to meet her…and it had indeed grown far stronger than before. She gave into the change, and to her relief it was not painful but bordered on almost sexual in its tension and struggle for release. Peter turned to her to behold a twin to his own monstrous form, and he howled, she joining him a moment later. The Betas in the forest froze at the sound, and a devolved Scott already on his third kill gave back a small despairing reply. Once again, things had changed beyond all reason. The two Alphas tore through the forest like twin forces of nature, and after they sated their hunger on an enormous grizzly that fell to their fury, they took refuge in a small cave curled into each other. They shifted back to their human selves, covered in blood and dirt and each thought the other never looked so enticing. They gave in then, and ravaged each other's bodies with the ferocity of sharks in a feeding frenzy, their hands and mouths everywhere, no erogenous zone left unexplored. Finally they locked together, the small enclosure ringing with the grunts of their efforts. Melissa was taken to heights she had never achieved with Robert or either of the other two men she had ever slept with. She hungered for it even while she built towards a mind-blowing multiple climax, knowing that she must have this every day, every hour if she could get it…she was drunk with desire for the man who writhed underneath her. She tried to devour him with her sex, and he happily joined her in her efforts. When his orgasm struck, it arched his back and made his eyes into burning flames, the teeth of the Alpha looking even more terrifying in his human mouth. She joined him less than a second later, but her road was bumpy while his was smooth, and she shuddered as each new wave hit her and left her breathless. When she finally came down and lay next to him, both drained of every drop of energy and need, she turned to him and murmured: "This date is going to be hard to top." He gave a soft contented groan, and the two slept and dreamt of each other.

_Before the Hunt…_

Far up in the wooded hills that surrounded the clearing to the south, Jackson Whittemore stood naked among the trees covered in a thick claylike mud that would mask his scent from the Pack below. In one hand he held an expensive camera with a telescopic lens and night vision capability. He had several pictures that he was proud of (most featuring Melissa and Peter sitting together), but his favorites were the ones where Derek was holding Stiles while Peter bit him, and the one showing Peter biting Allison, while Scott held her tightly from behind. There were a trigger happy Sheriff, a psychotic set of parents and one completely bonkers aunt who would be very interested in seeing them… and in doing something about it.


	7. Chapter 7

Stiles woke up at sunrise, realizing with distaste that his right hand was buried in the cool innards of a disemboweled stag.

"Eeeeew. Gross. Oh, sorry Prongs. I guess it's kind of insulting for me to eat you and then be grossed out, like your life didn't mean anything. If it's any consolation, I don't remember much about that, and it was nothing to do with you personally, I guess we just got caught up in the moment. I hope you are very happy in…deer heaven…and that there are no mean werewolves to chase you around anymore."

He got up and cast about for Derek…the thin golden thread of his mate's scent came to him from close by, along with the sound of running water. Finding himself terribly thirsty, he got up from the ground and brushed off some of the dirt and leaves that clung to him.

His shorts were missing, not that he cared. They made him feel more self-conscious than being naked. He followed his nose to the stream and found Derek standing up to his waist in the rushing water looking like a veritable river god as he cleaned off the dirt and blood that covered him. Stiles saw that both of their shorts had been washed and laid out to dry in the sun. Derek saw him and yelled "Jump in, the water's fine!"

Stiles immediately got a running start and leapt off a large rock that jutted out over the water. The river was icy cold, and he screamed aloud which made water rush down his throat. He got to his feet coughing and spluttering and glared at his mate with feral eyes and pointed ears.

Derek smirked at him. "Should have checked my heartbeat. Love it when you look at me that way, cub."

"That's good, because you'll be getting that look for the rest of the day." Stiles sharpened teeth were chattering, and he hoped he didn't sever his tongue.

"Cold? Let me warm you up." Derek grabbed Stiles, and amazingly, Derek's body was burning hot, steam actually seemed to be rising off of him.

"Wow, how are you doing that?" Stiles marveled, clinging to him.

"Easy. Just imagine your body temperature rising. When you're fully shifted, it's naturally about ten degrees higher than normal. You could also just make that part happen by itself."

Stiles concentrated, and soon the feeling of coldness faded away. He could even feel his toes again. His heart thundered powerfully in his chest, and he felt more alive than he ever had.

They kissed then, and neither of them seemed to have morning breath. The kiss tasted wild and gamey, and made him think of the forest. Stiles pulled back, smiled at Derek…and then gave him a powerful foot sweep that knocked the older teen under the water.

"Payback's a bitch." Stiles said, grinning. A second later, Stiles yelped as a clawed hand pulled him under as well.

After a good amount of activity that was at times alternately wrestling, sex, play fighting, slow dancing, sex, and back to wrestling again; they left the stream and recovered their shorts for the trip back to the house.

Stiles was noticing the new lean muscle that defined his previously thin frame.

"Hey, I'm hot now!" he exclaimed.

"You were always hot. Don't let it go to your head, because I'm the only one that's allowed to think that about you anymore."

"Jealousy doesn't become you. I need to share my beauty with the world. There's a nude beach three towns over that I plan on living at next summer…and you will be my personal suntan lotion slave."

"Never forget, Stilinski…you are _mine_."

"Never forget, my Dad's the Sheriff."

Derek looked away. Stiles smile faded when he saw that Derek wasn't laughing. He was biting his lip, and his fists were clenched.

"Der…I know I'm yours. And you're mine. I never want anyone else but you. You have to know that's true, we can't lie to each other."

"It's not you I'm worried about. I know what it means to be mated better than you do. It's just that if I saw anyone…_wanting you_..." he gave a growl that made Stiles' really nervous. "Since the fire…and Laura…I have this idea that I'm not meant to be happy…now that I have you, I worry that someone is going to try and take you away too. I'd go crazy, Stiles. I would rip however many people apart who stood in my way. You may as well know that now."

Stiles knew that most people would be uncomfortable hearing such an admission…but deep within him he felt a warm inner glow. He wanted more than anything… to _be_ wanted more than anything…and that was Derek's defining quality. Whoever arranged this mating business really knew what they were doing.

"My biggest fear is that you'll like someone better and leave…or I'll piss you off and you'll leave…or 'CSI: Miami' will be cancelled and you'll leave…"

Derek grinned as he turned back around.

"So if I told you I'm _never_ leaving you, that you're mine forever…you like that?"

"Nope. I love it. And you. We'll go to a _private_ nude beach. But you're still my suntan lotion slave." Stiles yawned and looked over at the sunrise. "As much fun as this was, I need to get home. My Dad will kill me if I'm not there when he wakes up. I have to make breakfast."

They made good time back to the house, and Stiles put on the clothes he left in Derek's Camaro. When he was dressed again, Derek drove him (still in his shorts…God he looked hot) back to his house and dropped him off. Stiles nimbly climbed up to his window, his senses telling him that while his father was in his own bedroom the older man was already awake. Stiles changed into his favorite pair of Scooby-Doo boxers that he wore to sleep and snuggled under the covers grateful that it was Saturday. No doubt his Dad would peek in and see him looking so angelic in sleep, he would let him sleep in. Maybe even give him breakfast in bed. Stiles yawned and found the most comfortable position in the bed without even trying.

Not a second later, Sheriff Stilinsky poked his head in.

"Time to get up, son. Your turn to make breakfast!"

Stiles shut his eyes and moaned. The world was so unfair.

He got up, checking himself in the mirror. He was clean, the bite mark was gone along with all the other evidence of Derek's overeagerness. He searched his room for a clean t-shirt, and found none. He would check the basement to see if the laundry fairy (as he liked to call his Dad) had been at work recently.

The basket was located at the base of the stairs, his clothing clean and folded, ready to be put away. Stiles triumphantly pulled a Charlie Brown shirt off the top and was unfolding it when his father called out in shock.

"Stiles!"

"What?"

"What on earth happened to you?" Steven looked his son up and down.

"What do you mean? I don't have any marks on me!" Stiles bit his tongue.

"Marks? I'm talking about muscles! When the hell did you become a gym rat?"

"Oh, never…this just happened naturally!" Stiles hated lying to his father, and this was pretty close to the truth.

"Naturally, my ass. You flunked P.E. last year when you insisted that exercise was against your religion! Are you on anything? Into anything I should know about?"

"I'm not on anything, nor am I into anything you should know about." Stiles said, again half-truthfully. He put on the shirt, grabbed the mail off the floor and went into the kitchen where he dumped it on the table. One of the envelopes was large and made of firm cardboard, and had no return address. Stiles gave it no more than a passing glance. In half an hour, he had a lavish breakfast laid out for his father. His senses were now so finely tuned that he was able to detect exactly when the egg-white omelet needed to be flipped or the pancakes (the healthy Fiber One kind) needed to be turned, or the toast (wheat) popped and he successfully picked the one non-expired milk container (zero-fat) out of the five in the fridge without looking at the expiration date. Butter substitute and coffee laced with Splenda completed the meal. In light of his father's advancing age and rapidly increasing cholesterol and triglyceride levels (not to mention high blood pressure), Stiles made every effort to keep him as healthy as possible. It had been months since Stiles had let him have any curly fries…after what the doctor called a "warning heart attack". Steven Stilinsky read the newspaper while he ate the exceptional breakfast before finally turning to his mail. The cardboard envelope was the first one opened. Steven whistled as he pulled out a series of photographs and examined them. The whistling stopped.

"STILES!"

Stiles jumped about three feet in the air, the pancake he was flipping now stuck to the ceiling.

"Dad! What gives?"

His father held out a photo. It was from the night before, and was a clear image of a fanged Peter chomping Stiles' arm, with Derek restraining him.

Stiles turned ghost white, and felt his heart and stomach plummet.

The Sheriff grabbed Stiles' wrist and examined it closely. The skin was clean and unbroken. "What the hell are these pictures?"

"Er, gag pictures. We were re-enacting scenes from a horror movie."

"With wanted criminal Derek Hale deciding to be one of the actors?"

"Um, it was from before all that."

"These pictures are dated yesterday!"

"That's when they were made! It's obviously fake Dad, I'm not injured!"

"I didn't know Scott's mother liked to act too, Stiles." Another pic showing her sitting next to Peter on the Stonehenge like thrones.

"And look, Scott and Allison doing the same thing. Stiles, are you in some sort of cult?"

"Cult? Dad, I'm not really into any religion. That stuff's boring."

"So, if I were to phone Melissa McCall right now, she would tell me that she was off re-enacting a horror movie with you and Derek and Scott and Allison and whoever this nut is."

"Of course!" Stiles tried to make it sound like any other explanation was sheer lunacy.

"And you're not a werewolf?" the Sheriff asked.

"WHAT? What would make you say that?" Stiles voice was high and light. Sweat broke out on his forehead.

The Sheriff held up a piece of paper that had letters cut out from newspapers to make up the short sentence that adorned it.

"THESE PICTURES ARE OF YOUR SON GETTING TURNED INTO A WEREWOLF, FOR HIS WEREWOLF BOYFRIEND DEREK HALE"

"Okay, someone has a really sick sense of humor!" Stiles said, hands on his hips.

The Sheriff got to his feet. He seemed to tower over Stiles.

"Son, I am going to ask you three questions. You will tell me the complete and whole truth or I will never trust you again. I don't care what the answers are…but if I ever find out they were lies, I will ask you to leave my house when you turn eighteen and never come back. I want to hear the truth, no matter what it is, and I promise…I promise…well, I can't promise that I won't get mad. But I will support you and help you. You have my word."

Stiles sat down in a chair, and tears started to pour down his cheeks. The worst thing in the world was happening, and he had no one here to stand with him. No Derek, no Melissa, no Scott. He felt utterly trapped.

"Go ahead Dad." He said lifelessly.

"First question. Are you…oh God, _seeing_ Derek Hale?"

Stiles looked at the floor. "Yes. Not for long, though. I was helping him out, he didn't DO any of that stuff everyone thinks-"

"Second question. Is there anything to this werewolf nonsense?"

Stiles shut his eyes, the tears flowing more strongly now. Then he looked up at his father. Steven Stilinsky took an involuntary step backward.

"Holy Mary, Mother of God." He breathed. Stiles' eyes were a bright golden yellow.

There was an enormous amount of information he wanted to tell his father, but he knew as soon as he tried to speak, his father would blow sky high. He was hyperventilating, and his face was red. Stiles sat there and waited. He wondered if Derek would let Stiles live with him in the burned out house. They could get some throw pillows and scatter rugs to make the place feel homey…

"Third question. Were you… son, were you forced into _anything_…in any way whatsoever?"

Stiles looked up at him. He wasn't expecting that. His face was red, and he sniffled loudly as he continued to speak… having no choice but to bare his soul to the one person he was terrified to show it to.

"No, Dad. I begged them to do it to me. It was the only way I could be with Derek and be…safe. Derek would rather kill himself than see me hurt. He would kill anyone who tried to hurt me. Just like you would. Only with teeth, instead of a gun. Derek asked me a thousand times if I were sure."

"It looks like Derek's restraining you here."

"That's just part of the ceremony. Does it look like I'm screaming, or upset? This is where I got the new muscles from, Dad. And I can't even tell you the other things I can do now. Derek is the best thing that ever happened to me besides getting to be your son."

The Sheriff looked startled at that statement.

"And you're the best thing that ever happened to me and your mother."

Stiles broke down then completely. His whole life had been afraid that his father would abandon him if he knew everything about Stiles…and now he saw that he had done his father a great disservice.

Steven Stilinsky came over and hugged his son tightly, and Stiles buried his face in his father's sweatshirt, getting it thoroughly wet with tears while the older man gently stroked the boy's head.

"I'll always love you son. I wish you hadn't shut me out like this. I could have helped you make some of these decisions, or given you advice, or…"

Stiles pulled back, his face still tear streaked. The pancake that was stuck to the ceiling fell, and almost landed on Stiles' head when he snatched it out of the air in a move so fast the Sheriff wondered if he hadn't imagined it. Stiles tossed it over his shoulder and into the garbage pail behind him with inhuman accuracy.

"I'm fully expecting your P.E. grade to go up this year, son."

Stiles laughed at that, and the Sheriff joined him.

"I have a lot to tell you if you really want to know everything."

"I do. Start. I won't interrupt until you're finished."

The breakfast food grew cold long before Stiles was done, but neither of them noticed.

"So, Derek is the _one_? No chance of grandkids?"

"Not unless male pregnancy is possible."

"God forbid. So, I have to get used to him being my son-in-law?"

"It was either him or Lydia Martin."

"I'm glad it's Derek then. That girl is a maneater…what am I saying? I guess you have a preference for that sort. Stiles…are you sure you're in, that it's…"

"With every fiber of my being."

"And there's no way…to stop being a werewolf?"

"Sure Dad. Getting shot with a silver bullet would do the trick."

Steven jumped. "That's not what I meant. Oh, God. Now I have to worry about people shooting you. Who sent these photos?" the Sheriff asked, picking them up again.

"Probably one of the Argents. Guess they were spying on our sacred werewolf rituals." Stiles joked.

"If it was the Argents, they know about Allison. You say they go gunning for werewolves? Just because? Or just the bad ones?"

"Kate would kill us all. She started the Hale fire, remember? Chris…I think he has some rules. Not that he'd be terribly distraught about making a mistake."

"Stiles? Do me a favor and grab my shotgun cleaning kit from the basement." The Sheriff got up and went to the living room where he unlocked his gun cabinet and removed the specially modified quadruple barreled weapon he only used for the most dangerous quarry.

The doorbell rang, and when the Sheriff answered it he was not surprised to see Melissa standing there. He hadn't seen her in quite a while, but as he took in the dramatic changes in her appearance he felt the same numb amazement he had with his son. She was literally perfect, and he felt an involuntary return of the old desire he once had for her. Neither of the children knew, but they shared a night of comfort that became more than that when they were both feeling particularly maudlin over their prematurely ended marriages. It never happened again, and they remained friends…but they were both smart enough to know that the friendship they had was too good to ruin with an ill-considered romance.

"Steven, it's been a long time. How are you?

"Hi, Melissa. I'm fine, but my son's a gay werewolf. Come in. Stiles told me everything."

She didn't look surprised. She followed him into the living room where they sat down. Stiles peeked in, but the Sheriff waved him off.

"Steven, I didn't know Stiles was going to be there until he was there. I did tell him he should have…I just keep thinking how I would have felt if it were you and Scott instead of the other way around. I would have been furious with you for not calling me that instant. I had _no idea_ about him or Derek until midnight last night...I just don't know what to say. I do know that they are deeply in love with each other. When feelings are that strong, hasty decisions get made. I don't expect you to forgive me."

She looked down, and twisted her new diamond ring on her finger.

"I want him to be happy. You know that. But he is in danger between that nutcase Argent family and the guy who turns out to be your new boyfriend…the Beacon Hills Slasher."

Melissa looked up, her expression furious, crimson sparks dancing in her eyes. The Sheriff leaned backward, suddenly realizing how dangerous his old flame had become.

"They _burned his family alive_, Steven. People that had never done anything to anyone. He was paralyzed for six goddamned years! _They had it coming_. You can't tell me you would do less if they hurt Stiles. I know I would do it for Scott!"

"They may be coming for _both_ our boys, Mel. Oh, sorry, you always hated that… I found out because someone sent photos of the whole thing to my house. There you all are, plain as day doing what looks like a cult initiation at best and a scene from a horror movie at worst. Stiles thought maybe Argent sent it, but I think that if Chris Argent sat there and watched his daughter get bitten, and didn't retaliate right then and there…he must be the coldest son of a bitch on the planet. I think that whoever sent it has a grudge against both groups and is trying to start a war. I'd bet Chris got this same envelope in the mail. The question is…has he opened it yet?"

Upstairs, Stiles panicked and grabbed his cell phone, launching himself out his window to land neatly on two feet halfway across the street. He was off and running, knowing he could make faster time than with his Jeep.

Melissa looked around, cocked an ear and sniffed loudly. "Stiles just left, jumped out his window. Steven, I'm sure he heard us talking from upstairs. It's one of the perks. He's probably going to warn the rest of the Pack."

"_The Pack?_ Dear God, there's a Pack? Let him find Scott and Derek, I need to talk to Peter Hale. Can you take me to him?"

Melissa looked nervous. "Are you sure that's such a good idea? Steven, he's good, but you cannot provoke him. You two will wind up killing each other. He meant no harm to Stiles."

Steven got up and grabbed a nearby vase, throwing it against the wall. "_He put my son in danger!_ There's _no_ undoing that…but he will make it his top priority to _help me keep him safe!_"

"Of course he will! We're family, Steven! That's what that whole thing last night was all about! Stiles wasn't just turned, he was given an army of people who want to protect him and each other!"

"Good, if that's the case, there should be nothing for us to fight about. Let's go."

Melissa quickly texted Derek to expect Stiles and that they would be seeing Peter. She looked at the Sheriff.

"Steven, you're not taking that shotgun."

{}{}{}{}

Stiles called Scott first, and quickly explained about the photos.

"Holy freaking shit Stiles. How's your Dad taking it?" Scott sounded half-asleep.

"Who cares? You have got to get Allison to destroy that envelope. Where is she?" Stiles shouted.

"We're both here in her house. Her parents are gone for the weekend, and they took Kate with them." Scott put the phone down and Stiles heard him filling her in.

"Oh my God." came her voice, then rapid footsteps as she ran out of the room.

A minute later she returned.

"Stiles, she's got it. Oh man, we would have been so dead…"

"Scott, you burn those photos until they're nothing but ash. NOW. I don't need you forgetting while you and Allison have one more quickie just to have Kate stumble across them. Burn them, burn them, burn them!"

"You didn't have to tell me twice Stiles. Consider them burned. Later." Scott hung up, and Stiles breathed a small sigh of relief. Maybe the crisis was averted.

Stiles soon arrived at the Hale house. Derek's Camaro was the only car there.

Derek himself emerged as Stiles ran up, a wide smile on his face.

"Hey cub, just got a text from Melissa…wait, what's wrong?" When Stiles told him, Derek slammed his fist into one of the remaining support beams for the porch, the damaged wood exploding from the force. Derek absently grabbed Stiles out of the way as the entire porch collapsed.

"When I find the one that did this…I am going to take off every inch of their skin…with a cheese grater."

Stiles wrinkled his nose. "Where do you come up with these threats? Is there a book? A website? Wait, what else did Melissa say?"

Derek showed him the text.

"Great. Melissa is taking my Dad to see Peter. I'm counting the ways that could go wrong."

"Stiles, relax. Peter is not who he was anymore. Even without Melissa around, that _dead_ part of him is gone. _This_ Peter cares about his Pack, and will do everything to keep us safe. Your Dad is important to you…and so, he's important to Peter now."

"I hope so! Can we go find them?"

"Stiles, I have no idea where Peter goes…and anyway there's going to be a lot of dominant personalities that your presence could set off. Melissa will keep the two of them from fighting. You have to trust in your Pack leaders, Stiles."

"What am I supposed to do until we hear from them?" Stiles half-yelled.

It turned out Derek had quite a few ideas.

{}{}{}{}

The Sheriff wanted to take his cruiser and head to their destination, lights and sirens blaring. Melissa led him (firmly) to the new Mustang that Peter gave her as a gift that morning. Her own beatup heap was about ten miles from total engine fusion, but Peter had to use every ounce of his persuasive abilities to get her to take it. The Sheriff tried not to reach for his ticket pad when she phoned Peter and told him the news.

They drove to the center of town, where a modest apartment building awaited them. They took the elevator to the seventh floor and went down the hall.

"If he's so loaded, why the unimpressive digs?" asked the Sheriff.

"When the Argent problem is…taken care of, he's going to rebuild the old house."

"Taken care of? You mean killed?" The Sheriff stopped and glared at her.

Melissa smiled…her teeth were very white. "Yes. Just Kate at this point. While they aren't the nicest people, I don't _want_ anything to happen to Chris and Vivian…however our boys come first. Stiles was over my house almost as much as yours for years, Steven. Scott thinks of him as a brother, and I think of him as a son. I won't let that bitch hurt either of them."

Melissa turned and opened the last door in the hallway and they stepped into Peter Hale's apartment. Whatever the Sheriff was expecting, this wasn't it.

It was small as apartments went, and obviously meant for no more than one or two people. A small kitchen with rather outdated appliances sat opposite a smaller bathroom (only a stall shower, no tub). A round wooden table occupied the dining area, and a place was set for one. A plate with half a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and half a glass of milk rested on the placemat. There were two bedrooms, only one of which served that function. The other seemed to be an office which was littered with newspaper clippings, files and an impressive looking computer. Peter sat on a small couch in front of the television (a pro tennis match was playing) in blue sweatpants and a UCLA sweatshirt. Airforce Ones adorned his feet. The Beacon Hills Slasher.

"Sheriff. How good of you to come. Please, sit." His warm blue eyes mystified Steven. If they were the windows of the soul, then he was looking in at a man at peace…or nearly so. It irritated Steven no end.

The Sheriff handed over the photos. Peter looked at them with mild interest. "Scott texted me, and told me the set sent to the Argent home has been destroyed. That gives us some time."

"Any ideas who did this?" barked the Sheriff. Melissa winced at the tone.

"A few possibilities suggest themselves…but I have no way of being sure. I will begin following up on them immediately."

"By following up, you mean killing them?"

"If I am left with no other choice…yes. This person, along with Kate are the only others I have any interest in killing. I take it you are familiar with the backstory?"

"Familiar? I was in charge of the investigation of the fire that destroyed your house! When the first few murders happened, I was the only one who saw they were pieces to a puzzle! I just didn't know which Argent it was…"

"A month ago, I wouldn't have cared and destroyed the lot of them. Luckily for quite a few people…I have recently seen the importance of family."

"Well, part of your family is my family…my son Stiles…you know, one of the kids you bit last night to bring them into your little club?"

"You are only a human…you have no idea what it means to be bonded with one of us. The human feels it as keenly as the werewolf, the desire builds up to uncontrollable levels! There is no keeping them apart except under great duress, which could break their minds. Your son _had_ to be turned to protect him, Steven. A brief flash of pain compared to the agony he could have felt if my nephew lost control…and now he is a match for Derek, and more than a match for any human! Tell me…how many times has your son come close to ending his own life due to clumsiness… or impulsivity… or curiousity?"

The Sheriff sighed. "I lost count at around seventy."

Peter smiled sympathetically.

"What his strength cannot shield him from, his mate will. He is happier than you could ever have made him, and his life will be longer for this, Steven. Once the Argents are out of the way."

The Sheriff knew that what the man was saying was true to an extent…and he had a feeling that Peter knew what the real problem was. Peter's next words proved it.

"You feel as if you've lost your connection to him. He will no longer see you as a father, or an authority figure due to his new powers."

Melissa sighed, her hand over her mouth. This never occurred to her…Scott needed her more than ever, and her own power over him rivaled Peter's.

The Sheriff's eyes shone, but no tears fell. "I feel so goddamned helpless…"

"That's something I can help you with...if you're willing."

And Steven Stilinski felt his heart lurch painfully in his chest to see the blue eyes of the mild-mannered man in front of him suddenly flash bright crimson.

_A/N – C'mon guys, one review (Thanks, joe!) for a 7,000 word chapter with over 500 hits in 48 hours? I didn't think I sucked that badly lol. I don't want to waste my time with this story if no one likes it, just let me know. I wasn't even going to submit this chapter but it was already written. Hurry, before I overdose on leftovers and go into a permanent turkey coma. Feedback, advice, suggestions, requests…hell I'll even take flames at this point. Peace!_


	8. Chapter 8

The morning after the hunt, Scott and Allison had a great deal of nervous energy left over, and after trying several inventive…and in some states illegal methods of relieving that tension, they elected to try out the training room where the adults of the Argent family and some of their associates honed the skills needed to hunt those they felt were too monstrous to live.

Scott nervously handled weapons that, with a stroke of particularly bad luck, could end up being used against him and everyone he cared about. Allison had her giant compound bow (she had named it 'Scorn') and used the ordinary practice arrows to nail one bullseye after another…and she was a pro _before_ being bitten. Scott had better luck with the crossbow, and after only a few shots was soon crowding his own arrows next to Allison's.

They tried out the punching bags next. Allison hit the small hanging bag with perfect rhythm, and it snapped back and forth with a sound like rapid gunfire. Scott whaled on the large weight bag, working himself up until the wolf pulsed in his arms and fists making the bag rock alarmingly back and almost tearing it loose from its mooring.

Exercises were next; Scott did chin-ups until he lost count at around fifty, only to spot Allison doing hers one handed.

"God, that looks hot!" he breathed, eyes burning as he breathed in the clean light sweaty scent she exuded.

He stripped off his shirt and tried some push-ups. First two handed (which was no challenge at all) then one handed… then with Allison sitting on his back. When they grew bored with that, they went for a run around the property, alternately chasing each other until at last real fatigue overcame them. They ended their race at the indoor heated pool and dove in, stripping off their clothes and flinging them to the side at the last moment.

They swam and had a splash fight, and then sat together in the Jaccuzzi, his arm around her shoulder while she nuzzled into his neck. She bit down on the flesh, sensing the supernormal strength beneath, and thrilled at the thought that she was strong too..

"Ally, you have no idea how much it meant to me when you said yes to this. It's such a relief not to have to keep things from you, or worry about you…as much….or worry that the difference between us was going to drive you away from me."

"If we never have to lie to each other again, it was worth it." The heat of the water and Scott's flesh was making her drowsy, the exertions finally taking their toll.

"Never again. Sorry for all that…I just didn't know what to do. I didn't want you to have to make a choice between me and your family."

"THEY made that choice for me, lying to me my whole life and treating me like a…child. They _could_ have trained me…given me a chance to prove myself…and its not like I was untalented… but they preferred to keep me at the kids table. I hope it doesn't come to it, but I'll stand against them if I have to… to protect you."

"Do you think they'd fight you?" Scott held her closer while she decided on her answer.

"My mom and dad? They would want to kill you and Peter for turning me…but if I could convince them I was okay…that I wasn't a rabid wolf…I think they'd get over it in… twenty years. My aunt Kate? I think she would write me off as dead, convince herself that the Allison she knew was gone and hunt for the creature that took my place. She would never accept it. What freaks me out is that she isn't doing it because she feels it's…right. She thinks it's all a big joke, she just wants to be the deadliest monster of them all so that she could say she won. She's less human than we are, Scott. And that makes her all the more dangerous."

Scott heard his phone beeping from his jeans on the other side of the pool. If things weren't so on edge lately, he might have ignored it. Growling, he stomped wet over to his clothes and yanked out the phone.

"Nice ass." Allison called.

"I know." Said Scott absently. Allison laughed.

The text on his phone read: "Sheriff's in the hospital. I'm here with Stiles and Derek. Mom."

"Oh, shit. Allison? Get dressed, we have to go."

{}{}{}{}

Melissa met them in the lobby.

"What happened?" Scott asked while Melissa rushed them into the elevator.

"Peter tried to turn Steven. It was a risk…Steven is in his forties and had a few health problems. You have to be strong enough to survive the bite, that's why teenagers usually get picked. He had damage to his heart muscle from a previous attack, and the bite is causing massive tachycardia…it's beating out of control. He has to survive until his healing factor is accelerated enough to fix the problem. The doctors are already noticing peculiar things about his physiology. Peter is back at the old house…he said there's something he can do there that will help his chances."

The elevator doors opened. Outside Steven's room, a frantic Stiles paced back and forth, while Derek stood there glowering, hands stuffed into his pockets.

Scott ran over and pulled him into fierce hug, while Allison stood beside Derek and gently rubbed his arm. He jerked at her touch, but then relaxed and gave her a brief hug as well.

"Why did he do it, Scott? Why would he want the damn bite? Does everybody want to be freaking Batman? Who's next? Lydia? Danny? Mr. Harris? How about Coach Finstock? Or the cafeteria lady? _Why my goddamn father?"_

"He wanted the strength to protect you, Stiles. You can't blame him for it, he felt like he was going to lose you." Melissa said gently.

"HE COULD HAVE TOLD ME!" Stiles shouted. It turned into a growl at the end, and Stiles was more than half shifted.

"_Stop that right now._" Melissa's eyes burned, and she lashed out at Stiles with her will. The wolf in her subdued his own, and Stiles found himself human again. He looked down at himself in amazement.

"How the…how the hell…?" he exclaimed.

"She's your Alpha, Sti. You swore your allegiance to her. Remember?" Derek said softly.

"Great. Just great. Can you hear his heart, Mrs. McCall with your rad new wolf hearing? I can! My Dad is dying! _Peter_ did this to him! _You_ let him! The two of you killed my father!" he shrieked, tears pouring down his face. He gave in to his more human emotions, and wept while Derek dragged him to a seat and sat with him, pulling the boy's face into his chest and hugging him fiercely.

"Peter did it to you too…and who let you come there that night, Stiles? Did you ever think that maybe your father should have known beforehand too? If you're throwing blame around, don't forget why he went to see Peter in the first place! You made your choice, and he made his." Melissa's voice was cold. Scott had never heard her speak like this before.

"Mom…"

Her burning eyes flashed to him. "Scott, stay out of this."

"You think I don't know this is my fault too? If anything happens to him…if he dies…I don't deserve to live…" Stiles voice broke at the end.

Derek looked alarmed. Desperation and fury warred in his expression as he looked at Melissa. "_Lay off him_." He took a deep breath and forced the next word out through clenched teeth. "Please."

Stiles turned as much of his body as he could into Derek's, as if he were trying to hide from everyone in the room. Derek wrapped his jacket around him, and he seemed to calm down as he tried to drown himself in the comfort of his mate's scent.

Melissa took a deep breath and nodded. "I'm sorry. I'm just as worried as all of you. But it does no good if we attack each other. Stiles, your father was going to go after the Argents with his shotgun because he thought there was a _chance _they would try to hurt you. How long do you think he would have lasted as a human? Is the fact that he asked for this so surprising?"

Stiles didn't answer her, leaving Melissa to sigh and lean back against the wall to wait.

Peter stepped out of the elevator. He covertly handed Melissa a vial with a purple liquid in it, and whispered in her ear. She took off her coat to reveal her work uniform. Moving quickly, she blended in with the professional staff already in the room. As they feverishly worked to slow the Sheriff's heart down, she calmly pumped a syringe full of the drug into the IV.

"Is that the Adenosine?" one of the doctors barked at her.

"Yes, doctor." All the boys heard her heart skip a beat.

She rejoined the boys and sat down to wait with them. Time slowed down to a crawl for all of them.

An hour later, the doctors emerged looking relieved.

"That was touch and go." one of the physicians murmured to another, glancing furtively at the group. Derek glared at him and he hurried away.

Peter took the seat next to his nephew and his mate. "Stiles. Your father's heart is slowing down. He is going to be fine. The wolfsbane worked."

Stiles looked up at him from where he was still curled into Derek.

"You gave him wolfsbane? Isn't that supposed to kill us?"

"It's actually supposed to enhance our power…alone in it's raw form, it ramps up our abilities until the strain kills us. But with a bit of my blood in it, in the right dose…it can practically bring us back from the brink of death. It takes some time to prepare, however and it's touchy business. I finished it as soon as I could."

Stiles stared at Peter, who gazed calmly back. "Thank you." He said tonelessly. It was obvious he was still angry for putting the Sheriff in danger.

"I was happy to do it. I would not see you unhappy if I could prevent it, Stiles. Any of you."

Dr. LaMar approached them.

"Sheriff Stilinski is going to be fine. Not only has he recovered, but he seems to be bouncing back quite quickly. I've never seen anything like it. He will spend the next few days here until all of our tests come back. The sedatives we gave him will keep him out until tomorrow. Come back and see him then. Good day." LaMar walked off.

"For a minute, I thought he was going to break down into tears." Melissa muttered sarcastically. Peter chuckled.

"When the Sheriff is recovered, I think we should meet to discuss what we plan to do about this new enemy. Allison, we need to prepare for the fact that your family will find out. Destroying an envelope will not stop whoever sent it. Any day now, your family will become your enemies, and your own home will no longer be safe. I'll begin making arrangements for you, but you should start moving any belongings you value out of that house."

Allison paled (as did Scott), and nodded. She hadn't considered that she was only delaying the inevitable.

"Scott, let Jackson know everything that's been happening. Tell him… to be careful."

Peter looked suddenly troubled, as if he remembered something important.

"And tell him…I need to talk to him."

Scott nodded, eyes cast down.

"Derek…take Stiles to his home, and get his mind off all of this."

Derek stood up, pulling Stiles with him.

"Stiles, do you want Allison and me to stay with you two tonight?"

"Yeah, if you wouldn't mind." The four younger werewolves left.

"Liss…I did the right thing, didn't I?" Peter asked without looking at her.

"You only did what Steven asked." Melissa stood by him and pulled his chin with her finger until their eyes met. For the first time, in addition to the raw power and cool command she always found there, she was now noticing strain, doubt and worry.

"I did warn him…" he began.

"Yes, you did. Look, he's going to be fine. If he really wants to tackle the Argents with us, well he's going to need all the strength you gave him."

"I gave him a choice…but you, I threw you into this. I should have-"

"Peter, don't. What's done is done. You opened my eyes to world I never knew existed…and after all of this, I'm finally involved in my son's life…whether he likes it or not." she chuckled.

"I misjudged Scott…and now that I'm in my right mind again, I see some mistakes I made with Jackson. I'm going to make it up to him. He reminds me of myself…before."

"That's good. I wonder how he'll feel having his rival's mother for an Alpha." she smirked. "I'll try not to pay him back for the grief he's given my son over the years. Come home with me. I'll make dinner, we'll have the place to ourselves…" her eyes glinted crimson again.

Peter growled low in his throat. Gods, this woman was exquisite.

"You're the boss…" They left the hospital.

{}{}{}{}

Three days later, Derek was seated at the kitchen table with Stiles, Jackson, Scott and Allison. His eyes glowed a sapphire blue.

"_I killed him_." He said evenly. He waited to see what effect this news would have on the pack.

They looked bored.

"Go on…" coaxed Stiles.

Derek looked confused.

"Where?" asked Scott, rolling his eyes.

"And with what?" asked Allison, chuckling. This couldn't have been his first time at this.

"Oh, hold on." Derek looked down at his checklist. "In the Conservatory. With the Knife. And I _ate_ him afterwards." he said, trying to look menacing.

"Scaaaary." Stiles checked the evidence file. "The good news is that you won the game. The bad news is that for being the killer, Professor Plum, you are sentenced to die by the electric chair. Congratulations."

"Seriously? What kind of dumb game is this?" Derek threw down his cards.

"Can you electrocute werewolves?" asked Jackson, looking alarmed.

The others laughed, and Scott started putting the game away when the phone rang. Stiles grabbed it, and listened to the voice on the other line.

"Guys! My dad's coming home!"

The pack cheered.

An hour later saw them gathered along with Melissa and Peter at the Sheriff's favorite diner, with an enormous plate of curly fries covered with mozzarella cheese and gravy in front of the guest of honor. He had the ecstatic look of a man with a winning lottery ticket.

"I'm told I can eat as much of these as I like now." he said gravely, still hesitant to touch the plate. He was too afraid it would pop like a soap bubble and he would wake up back in the hospital with a pile of Styrofoam disguised as food in front of him.

Stiles was too astounded at the change in his father to speak. The gray was gone from his hair, the constant flush from his high blood pressure absent. He seemed thinner, thanks to his new metabolism and his eyeglasses were in a wastebasket somewhere. When he got up from the wheelchair hospital policy insisted he ride in until he was out of the building, he grabbed his son and effortlessly swung him up so the boy was seated on his shoulders. Stiles squealed, delighted. Derek walked by the Sheriff's side, nervously looking up and bracing to catch him if Stiles fell. Melissa and Peter met them at the diner and laughed as he ordered the most enormous meal of his life. "If I don't eat soon, I'm going to be imagining you guys wrapped in giant hot dog buns." he confessed.

The waitress arrived with his Jumbo Double Bacon Cheeseburger Deluxe, and he groaned inwardly at the beating his wallet was going to be taking from their future food bills. The final thread of his resistance snapped and he began ravenously devouring his meal. Jackson was particularly bug-eyed watching him, although all of the "converts" remembered their own first morning after appetite.

Derek said little during the meal, he seemed supremely uncomfortable in the presence of his mate's father given how he had found out about them.

As if reading his mind, Jackson suddenly asked the Sheriff: "So…you and Stiles are okay about Derek? And you supported him so much you even joined the werewolf club? That's amazing. My parents would have flipped out, killed me and then disowned me. In that order."

The Sheriff paused in his chewing and looked at Jackson before swallowing mightily.

"Don't underestimate your parents, Jackson. I know them from way back, and I think they'd feel the same way about you as I do about Stiles. My son is the most important thing to me in the world. No stupid pictures are ever going to change that. As for Derek…" The Sheriff glanced at him briefly. Derek barely stopped himself from flinching. "…there are things I don't need to say because of this whole bonding thing I keep hearing about. I know it's for life, and I know he won't hurt Stiles. But I think everyone here sees the lengths I would go to for my son. This is nothing to how far I would go…if necessary. I lost his mother…" The table became uncomfortably silent, the chattering of the others dying down as the older man spoke. "…I will be _damned_ before I lose him too."

The way he said it was more frightening than Peter or Derek on their worst days. The teenagers gulped silently, while the adults looked at him with knowing eyes. That's what it meant to be a parent.

"Well, I'm glad to hear you say that Sir, because that's how I feel too. I lost a family once…never again." Derek said quietly.

The two men looked at each other (while Stiles glanced back and forth between them) and reached a silent understanding, and the Sheriff didn't need to verify Derek's heartbeat to know he was telling the truth.

"Then I welcome you into my family, Derek. But you will be reporting to the station to sign some statements about the murders. I won't have my son dating a suspected criminal. I'll see to it that you are cleared of suspicion of that high school incident and of any involvement in the recent deaths.

The Sheriff turned to Peter. "The deaths have all been ruled animal attacks. I understand why…you felt your actions were necessary. Believe me, I do. I also realize that I'm supposedly in your Pack now, and I have to respect your authority as my…Alpha? But I'm also Sheriff of this town. I need to know that you're-"

"Steven, my family and I lived here for years peacefully. We would have continued to do so but for that…" he glanced at Allison. "…woman. Nothing would make me happier than to be able to do that again. I'm not the man I was when I dealt with them…but I would repeat my actions this minute if it were necessary…I would just feel badly about it afterward. Slightly. When Kate comes after us all…and she will…you'll see what has to be done for yourself. Those extra lengths you were just speaking of, well you may get your chance as may Melissa or even myself if anything happens to any of you. She has no qualms about killing teenagers, Steven. She's done it before, and she would do it again in a heartbeat. If Chris and Vivian can agree to a truce after they find out their daughter is a werewolf and his sister is dead by our hand, I'll be perfectly willing to let the matter drop."

"I wonder who'll protect me or avenge me if anything happens." Jackson muttered.

"I will, Jackson. Or Steven or Melissa." Peter was looking at him with troubled eyes.

"Really? That's not the feeling I got when you sank your claws into my neck and mind-raped me right before you threw me into a wall."

The table fell silent. Everyone was staring in horror at both his words and Jackson's daring. Peter's expression did not change.

"If you have anything else to add, Jackson, now would be the time." he said calmly.

"I _need_ to add something to that?" His heartrate had picked up speed, everyone at the table sensed it.

"It was your option. I did what I did because that was how my instinct told me to handle you, Jackson. I did it because that fire that destroyed my home turned me into a real monster. My niece was another casualty…I'd say you ended up better off than her. With the exception of yourself, everyone here knows that since Liss…joined with me, that monster is gone for good. I know that doesn't make up for what I did to you. I would give anything to have treated you differently… but you _know_ what that monster is like, Jackson. It's cruel, it's remorseless…and it's what made you send those pictures to the Sheriff and the Argents, isn't it?"

Jackson paled. Fury had led to his outburst, and now he bitterly regretted it. Stiles had an expression of pure loathing on his face, Derek was glaring at him and Melissa's eyes were wide as she covered her mouth with her hand. Scott and Allison were burning holes into him with smoldering stares. Even the Sheriff was speechless. Peter continued after a few moments of silence.

"I suspected it was you. Jackson, if any other wolf had done this…well, I think you can guess at what the punishment would have been. However, I take partial responsibility for it. My own actions were inexcusable. You had justification for hating me. What I need to know…what the Pack needs to know…is why you put all of them in danger too?"

"How else was I going to make you pay? Fight you? You'd kill me. I hoped with enough guns going off, one of those bullets would hit you. Would anyone here have helped me take a stand against you? If after everything you did, they _still_ were willing to follow you…why would they change their minds over me? I know I was an ass to some of you guys, but you didn't welcome me with open arms either. _You_ ordered Derek to kill me, Peter, before you changed your mind!" 'There, let's see what the Pack makes of that!' Jackson thought vindictively.

"That was the surest way I could stop you blackmailing Scott. Didn't you threaten to tell Allison everything if he refused to help you turn?"

Jackson looked around at them, and ironically it was only Peter that didn't seem to be sickened, disgusted, horrified or full of rage at him.

"I want him out of this Pack." growled Stiles.

"Me too." Said Scott.

Derek's glare spoke volumes.

Jackson had enough. "I'm out. You all stay the hell away from me. I don't care if you're an Alpha or not…you or anyone else who comes near me will get a big fucking surprise…" Jackson stalked out. They watched him through the window taking off in his Porsche.

"He didn't pay for his food. Oh, and he also needs to die." muttered Stiles.

"Stiles, that's enough." said the Sheriff absently.

"That's enough? Dad-"

"Killing Jackson won't accomplish anything. Peter, I know you say you're a different person now, but this is _your_ mess to clean up. Jackson might do anything, and if we have to worry about both him and the Argents, we're going to be in real trouble." The Sheriff met Peter's gaze evenly.

"It's funny how the sins of our past just keep haunting us. I regret what I did, a great many of the things I've done. You can all hear that I'm telling the truth. But I fear that my power to help him may be limited…he's a monster worse than I was. I had a clear goal, but Jackson…he holds the entire world responsible for his pain. No one is safe from him. He will never feel anything but rage, unless…"

"Unless what, Peter?" Melissa put her hand on his arm.

"We have to find his mate. Then he has to bond with whoever it is. It's the only thing that will wake up any shred of the person he was."

"That's a problem; he doesn't love anybody but himself, and who could love _him_?" muttered Scott.

"And it won't do any good anyway; Jackson was _always_ an asshole." growled Stiles.

Derek looked at Stiles and (surprising them all) began to laugh.


	9. Chapter 9

"What's a yiff?" asked Scott.

Stiles looked up and saw Scott randomly looking at Stiles' browser history on his laptop.

"Cross between a yip and a laugh… happens when a werewolf thinks of something funny mid-transformation." Stiles said before slamming the laptop lid down on Scott's fingers.

"That's a lie…but a good one. I would totally have believed it without these ears. Seriously Stiles? Werewolf porn?" Scott fell back on Stiles' bed, laughing.

"Well, I'm not the one rolling around on a bed where Derek and I screwed about a hundred bazillion times this week. Relax, you're soaking in it."

Scott literally backflipped off the bed, somehow landing on his feet. "Ugggghhhh! That is so gross! You two are the most sickening couple ever!"

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Just kidding. And dude, if you had any idea how many people thought that about you and Allison…"

"What are you talking about? No couple is hotter than we are!" Scott exclaimed.

"Frosty the Snowman's ass is hotter than you are. Oh, who gives a rat's ass? It's not a contest. Let's go pick up Allison with the van, load the rest of her stuff in it, break speed laws to get it to her new place and _maybe_ Peter won't kill us for being late to the Pack meeting. It starts as soon as my Dad gets there after his shift ends…which should be in about two hours."

"Bro…I just can't get it out of my head. Our parents are werewolves! I freaked out when it really hit me. How're you dealing with it?"

Stiles answered as he grabbed his keys and followed Scott out to his car.

"He's alive, and healthier than he's ever been, and I'm not worried so much anymore that he's gonna be killed in the line of duty and leave me an orphan."

Scott's mouth opened and closed as he thought about this. "Okay, that's one way to look at it. How's _he_ dealing with it, I wonder?"

{}{}{}{}

"Steven, you're looking good! Wish I bounced back so well after _my_ first attack. Bet you're glad you qualify for that early retirement package in a couple months, you'll be able to get in a few good years worth of fishing." Mayor George Russell shook the Sheriff's hand gravely. The Mayor did an annual inspection of the police station, and never failed to praise him for his performance on the job.

"Actually, I'm thinking about staying on the five years for the full pension. I feel better than I ever have."

"Really? Well, I can't say that I mind, I was worrying about who was going to _try_ to fill your shoes. I think you're nuts, though. Won't Stiles be upset?"

"My son isn't the same comic and video game nerd he became when he turned into a teenager. He matured a lot…and he has someone to keep his mind off what I'm doing."

"Ah." said the Mayor wisely, giving him a knowing wink.

The Sheriff smiled, and escorted the Mayor towards the front doors. Then, all hell broke loose.

Howard Steckel, a third striker being booked for what would turn out to be a lengthy sentence if he were convicted (as he most assuredly would be for a variety of crimes) decided he had nothing left to lose and seized an opportunity as soon as he saw it.

Rookie cop Edward Bell walked by the chair Steckel was handcuffed to, only to have Steckel (with the speed of a striking cobra) yank the officer's gun from its holster and put a bullet through the chain of his cuffs. In a move that would have gotten him a score of 8 on Dancing with the Stars, he spun gracefully behind the Mayor and had him in choke hold with the gun to the older man's head.

"Anyone moves, speaks or even sneezes and you get Mayor McCheese's brains all over the goddamned place! Out of the way! Move!" The Sheriff was stunned for a brief second. Years ago, Steckel was hardly dangerous; a scrawny kid with a name other children found humorous; then he spent all of his jail time exercising his guts out until he acquired his present body-builder status. More than a few cops had to seek extensive dental surgery after an attempt to subdue him. He was, quite literally, nuts.

The Sheriff felt something shift inside him, like sensing that someone, somewhere in your house had just woken up…only this feeling was from _inside_. It was coming awake…and it was very interested in what was going on around it.

"Steckel! Put down the gun and let the Mayor go! If you want a hostage, I'll go with you!"

"Screw you, Stilinksi!"

The Sheriff started to growl low in his throat. He hated when people mispronounced his name. He wanted to teach the thug how to spell it, punctuating each letter with a face crushing punch. He was feeling sensations he never had before in his life; an electric tingling was shooting through his limbs, and as his pulse quickened his vision gained a razor sharp clarity. It felt like there were half again as many teeth in his mouth as there should be. Goddamn this creep, doing this on the day of his freaking inspection? Embarassing him in front of the Mayor and all of his men? The thing inside him growled, and the Sheriff heard it coming from his mouth. It was feeding its animal rage into him, using it to cloud his thinking and replace it with pure instinct. Steven fought it back even as his fingers sprouted new claws and spread wide, itching to rake through flesh…god, it would feel so good…

He struggled to master himself. Fortunately, everyone's terrified eyes were on Steckel, except for the Mayor's (his were squeezed shut in fright).

Steckel stared at the Sheriff as he seemed to turn into a monster right before his eyes, wondering if this was a flashback from the last time he did acid. In extreme slow motion, he reflexively brought the gun around to aim at the creature that was once a police officer. As soon as the gun was clear of the Mayor, the Sheriff's clawed hand whipped a Lucite paperweight off of Bell's desk (made to look as if a stack of hundred dollar bills was sealed forever inside) and hurled it at Steckel's head with lethal force. The paperweight hit him right in the center of his forehead (leaving an impressive bloody dent), and Steckel had a brief flash of dollar signs spinning around his head. He kept hold of the gun, but threw the Mayor to the floor.

"You goddamn freak, I'm gonna blow your brains out…and when I run into that nerd kid of yours, I'm gonna ventilate him too-"

And so Steckel violated the most sacrosanct of a secret set of rules the Sheriff kept in his head, far more inviolate than any legal law. He liked to think of them as 'Sheriff Laws', and this one was number twenty, the last and greatest.

Nobody _ever _threatened his son and got away with it.

In a split second he went from doing everything to keep the wolf in the proverbial box to yanking it out howling in a mad rage. He pushed it to the front of his mind with all his will behind it, and underwent the full Beta shift, the flesh of his face crawling as it contorted into something between man and beast. Growling, he moved forward with terrifying speed and swatted the gun out of Steckel's hand with his own mutated paw before the gun had completed its journey towards the Sheriff. Steckel screamed…his trigger finger had abandoned him along with the gun. Steven gave the criminal a hard shove in the center of his chest, the muscles in Steven's arm and shoulders bunching and releasing energy like a cannon shot. The sternum of his rib cage cracked as the blow hit Steckel like a pile driver, and the brawny muscle-bound thug flew like a rag doll to land on his back about fifteen feet away.

Steven turned around just as the Mayor opened his eyes. Six police officers leapt on the fallen thug, cuffing him and training their weapons on him while he moaned in agony. Steven fought the wolf back now that the danger (from Steckel, anyway) was past. It didn't want to go, it raged with him, against him now while it struggled for control, but twenty years on the force had forged an iron will within him. Slowly…slowly…he backed the wolf into the box. He slammed into the nearby men's room to give himself privacy while he waged this inner war. The sight that met him in the mirror astounded him; fangs, glowing amber eyes, clawed hands…and he still in his police uniform. Perversely, it made him want to laugh, and the sight of the fanged mouth pulling into a smile made him laugh all the harder. It was really all true. Just call him Sheriff Lobo. Thinking of the long ago cancelled television show (which had been a favorite of his) caused him to bend double with mirth. When he got control of himself and straightened up, tears flowing from his eyes while the laughter died down to low chuckles, he found that the wolf had faded back from both his mind and body. He left the men's room. The Mayor was looking at him, concerned. One of the officers checked him over for injuries, but the Mayor shooed him away.

"You all right, Steven?" he asked. "This change your mind about leaving?"

"Absolutely not. In fact, I want to stay more than ever."

When the chaos died down, he went back to his office and relaxed into his comfy office chair. A hundred aches and pains that he had grown used to over the years were gone. He felt as if he had switched bodies with someone far younger and more athletic…kind of like how he was back in his college days. He didn't exactly know when he had stopped hitting the gym or when he had switched over from fruit and salad to cheeseburgers and curly fries, but he was sure it was some time around Stella's passing. The cancer had been one of the silent types, the kind that reaches stage four before you even begin to notice any symptoms. When it was discovered, she had hideously little time left as the invisible fiend inside her suddenly decided to go for her throat. It crippled both of the Stilinski men, and despite the selfishness of the thought, one thing that kept going through his mind as he suffered the ravages of the bite was a tiny bit of happiness that he might soon see his beloved wife again. Of course, that would have left Stiles alone…but he had friends, he had Melissa…and he was lethal now. It might have been okay. Now though, the newborn wolf within him was sharing its lifeforce…funneling it into every cell in his body. Steven would likely never have another sick day in his life. It didn't seem fair that he should have this gift, when so many others managed without it. Perhaps Stella could have been saved, though Steven shuddered to think of his wife (already a force to be reckoned with) as a werewolf. Kate Argent would have been a memory as soon as Stella learned of the threat, no matter how many guns she had. And Stella had less of a tendency to question her own actions than most people, especially when it came to her family. He wondered at this mating business, and if he was safe from it. He felt with every fiber of his being that Stella was the only woman he was ever meant to be with; had the wolf been in him while she was alive, he _knew_ it would have chosen her. Peter refused to confirm or deny this, simply saying there was no way of knowing. There _had_ been those who never found mates, Peter strongly suspected he was one of those before he met Melissa. Whatever happened though, Steven was certainly not going to look for it. He glanced at his watch.

"Damn, I'm going to be late for my Pack meeting." he said to himself. He wondered if that sentence had ever been used before.

{}{}{}{}

Stiles and Scott parked the van in the Argent driveway and jogged through the open doorway.

"We're going to be late for the Pack meeting! You can leave _some_ things behind, you know!" grumped Stiles irritably.

Allison was busy coming down the stairs with one of her oversized dressers in her hands. The sight of the slim girl clutching something so obviously heavy was funny and scary at the same time.

"There are two more in my room, this is way easier than packing and unpacking. If you grab them, we'll be done. Hurry!" she chivvied them.

Stiles and Scott did as commanded, and both were amazed at the weight of the heavy wood furniture. It took all of their human and wolf strength combined to lift them, and there was no way a human less built Conan the Barbarian could have done it. They exited through the garage and plopped the dressers in the back of the moving van, tying them in place and shutting the doors. They caught their breath and inhaled just as the wind changed, catching the same terrifying scent.

The three turned to behold Kate Argent staring at them from the path leading to the back of the Argent mansion. She had an expression of combined fury and disgust on her face. Apparently she had seen everything.

All the blood drained out of the three boys, but fortunately Kate was holding nothing more threatening than a half peeled orange and a cell phone.

"Good thing I came back early. Had to go in the back way because your getaway van was blocking the driveway. Either you three are taking some serious steroids, or you've thrown in with the other side. Allison, you stupid bitch…have I taught you nothing? Tell me they forced you…tell me they did this against your will, and I'll kill you quick…I'll just torture the boys."

Stiles and Scott stood protectively in front of Allison, growling as they shifted.

Kate snickered.

"Ooooh, Snoopy AND Marmaduke! Maybe if it was just me…and maybe if I had both hands tied behind my back…you'd have a shot. But I snapped a picture and sent it off to your dad and some of the boys. They'll be here any minute…and you're going down like Old fucking Yeller."

"Allison, get the van started, NOW! Scott, get in!" shouted Stiles. Allison darted to the driver's side door.

"No way, Stiles! I'd have your dad _and_ Derek after me if I left you here! I'll take my chances with Kate!"

Both boys saw a line of cars coming up the street…Argents men. If they made it to the front of the driveway, the wolves would all be trapped. Kate tore into the garage and started to unlock the huge gun cabinet mounted on the wall inside. The van engine gunned and made it out of the driveway to completely block the road. The first car swerved to avoid a crash, causing the second to plow into it. Allison shouted through the open window. "Come on!"

Scott and Stiles turned and ran down the driveway. They almost made it when two rapid rifle shots blasted through the air. The boys fell to the ground. Allison watched shocked as her aunt swung the latest product of Argent Armaments (a sleek and lethal looking repeating rifle) over her shoulder and approached the fallen bodies. She gave Scott a vicious kick in the ribs. "Getting her pregnant I could have dealt with. Turning her? Typical piece of shit werewolf." Another kick in the ribs for Scott, and then one in the face for Stiles. "I don't know you, but you look annoying." she told his unmoving body. Allison saw her father get out of the third car in the line and race towards the van. Allison snapped out of her trance and floored the gas pedal. The two crashed cars prevented them from following…not that they would. They could surely guess her destination, and what fate would await any who pursued her there.

Allison raced through the forest, cringing as the van lurched alarmingly over the bumps in the dirt road. She nearly killed three or four trees that stubbornly refused to get out of the way as she raced to the Hale house. The adults were all outside, hearing her frantic approach long before she got there. She pulled off to the side and killed the engine, leaving the keys in the ignition.

It would be hard to say of all of them who looked more shocked to see her alone with the terrified expression she wore on her face.

"They came home early. Kate caught us…the others were coming and almost trapped us. I managed to get away, but she…she…"

"_WHERE'S STILES?_" roared Derek.

"Oh God." muttered the Sheriff, turning pale.

"She shot them! I don't know what kind of bullets she used! I don't know if they're alive or dead! We have to go back. I can't face them alone! Peter, you and Jackson were both right. Kate is horrible, she's not even a person anymore. She brought this on herself."

"Right. Let's go. We're getting the boys back. _Anyone that stands in the way, dies…_ and Kate pays the full price for all of her crimes. Do any challenge this plan?" He looked around at the group.

Melissa's eyes flashed…quite literally flashed the red of hell's own fires. "If I don't find my son alive and well, they _all _die."

"Sheriff?" asked Peter.

Steven pulled off his badge and stuck it in his pocket, then dropped his gun into the trunk of his cruiser. "I'm not the Sheriff tonight." The wolf was on his features, the near mindless rage of a protective parent over its vulnerable cub pouring off of him.

"Derek…nevermind. The glare says it all. Allison…I want you to stay here. No one should have to fight their own family, and there's no guarantee they would spare you."

"Screw that! They aren't my family anymore; remember that oath I swore? You're my family now."

Melissa turned burning eyes on her…Allison swallowed and took a step back. "Allison…_know your place._ Scott wouldn't want you there, and neither would I."

"She's right. We will have enough to handle without worrying about a lovestruck pup!" Peter hissed at her.

"It's unanimous then." Steven put in.

Allison looked to Derek pleadingly, but he shook his head.

"Allison…please stay." his lips quirked, despite his obvious eagerness to be gone. "Good Argents are hard to find."

"Just when I thought I'd stop getting treated like a child…Fine, I won't fight! But at least let me come with you so I can find the boys while you…do what you have to do! That's my home, I know it better than any of you! I know codes to get past electronic locks, I know where the weapon stores are! Goddamn it, I'm almost 18!"

"Very well. If you find the boys alive…get them out of there. Let's go!"

The Alphas erupted out of their human hosts, their bodies twisting as forces older than mankind transformed them into killing machines out of legend. Their clothing fell to the floor in tatters, and they took off through the woods followed closely by the three Betas. The number of wolves and the unity of their purpose forced them further along in their shifts than they had ever gone, the whole of the power shared throughout all of their bodies becoming stronger than the mere sum of its parts. As they closed in around the house, they howled… and it was terrible to hear. The residents of Beacon Hills (many of whom were descendants of its original settlers a few hundred years ago) felt a terror that seemed hideously familiar.

The Argents and their men heard it even in their secluded mansion. All were armed for battle. Chris and Vivian wore expressions resigned fury; that this could have happened was beyond imagining. A year ago, Allison had not known what werewolves were. Now, she had joined with them and abandoned her home and family, even threatening to kill Kate and her own parents from what his sister said. He would wait, and look into Allison's face and see for himself that the little girl he loved was well and truly gone before he would act. It was the least he could do as her father.

Kate herself felt the delicious anticipation of long awaited sexual release as she waited for the wolves to arrive. The thought that she might die amused her; anyone who breaks the heart of a werewolf…and then murders his family…could only be said to have a death wish. But to her, it was a necessary thing, a cleansing force…like fire. There would be filth wiped away from the world tonight…and if her own sacrifice was necessary, then she would be sure to take all of them with her. She felt bad for her brother and his wife, as strong as they were, she could tell they didn't have the heart to do what was necessary…to kill the thing that used to be their daughter. Even the lie she told them hadn't galvanized them into action. Little did they know that Kate had done some quiet recruiting among his own men. Chris had no idea, but they were _her_ men now, and would turn on him of she gave the word. She hoped she wouldn't have to. She hated to see him upset.

Unbelievably, the oven timer rang and Vivian came in with a tray of the most heavenly smelling cookies. All of them took one with the solemnity of communion wafers, but for Chris when Vivian slapped his hand away. Kate chided herself as she savored the chocolate chip delicacy that this was soooo not on her diet…but that wouldn't matter after tonight. Once the wolves were dead…every last one of them…it would only be a matter of time before she checked out of what would then be a decidedly disappointing life. She would be escorted to hell by an entourage of all the werewolves she ever killed, and she could only hope that whatever her assigned torture was (and she hoped it would be something interesting), she got to share it with Derek for eternity. In a way, she loved him; loved him enough to be hurt when he told her she just wasn't the one for him, not his 'true mate' or some crap like that. Something snapped inside her then, and she remembered that he was the thing she had trained her whole life to destroy, lectured over and over again that his kind were inherently evil… and her broken heart made her more determined than ever to wipe them all out. This handsome, gentlemanly noble man that cared for her despite her family's brutal killing of his kind over centuries. He had spoiled her for all other men and then cast her off. Derek and the other werewolves _had_ to die as soulless killers…had to be _remembered_ that way, so no other girls would fall into the trap that she had... like her niece Allison had. The fire hadn't accomplished this, hadn't turned Derek into the killer she wanted…no, needed him to be. Maybe the shooting of those two cubs would do the trick. One of them had kept calling out for Derek, until she knocked him out with the butt of her gun. Now Derek would show his true nature. This was her gift to her family... to Chris. Validation of their way of life was all they had; they were antiques, the last vestiges of an ancient army of monster hunters who would soon no longer be needed. Chris and Vivian could start again, find a different way to live…and have other children once this was over. Hopefully this time it would be a boy…Chris had no understanding of girls.

Kate took Moore, Simms and Reid and left the house to take guard the perimeter. The wolves were approaching…the forest around the Argent estate seemed full of them, one pair of hellish eyes after another flickering through the trees. Kate brought her gun up, and took careful aim at one of the Alphas as soon as it emerged from the woods. The next second saw her doubling over in pain, the gun dropping from her fingers. Searing agony radiated up from her stomach, and she vomited.

"W-what…the f-fuck?" she muttered, her stomach twisting itself in knots as she retched again. Dimly, she sensed the men doing the same. Poison? In the fucking cookies? To save her goddamn daughter?

"Vivian…that bitch…" Kate fell flat on her back, her fading eyes staring up at the moon…she was going into the darkness alone. Without Derek.

{}{}{}{}

The meat stank. The great wolf sniffed at the bodies…poison. It growled; it could not sate its hunger on this offal. Its mate approached, followed by the rest of the Pack. The others arrived at the same conclusion and looked at their leader, puzzled. They were prepared for a great battle, but had arrived to find that Death had been and gone without them.

Peter shifted back first, followed by Melissa. The two Alphas stripped the clothing from Kate and one of the male Hunters, donning them (trying to ignore the smell that clung to them) while the Betas watched impassively. Allison approached her now nearly naked aunt and knelt next to her, and was joined on the other side by Derek.

"Who did this?" he asked.

"That's what we'd like to know." Chris and Vivian came out the front door of the house. Both were armed with magnum sized handguns, which were trained on the two Alphas.

"They all ate those cookies…" said Vivian, pale and shocked.

"They were dead when we got here. It smells like poison. From the symptoms, vomiting and hair loss…I'd say it was strychnine. Rat Poison. A lot of it." Melissa pointed out.

"Sheriff, you're one too?" Chris was shocked. Chris noted that the badge was missing…the significance was not lost on him.

"My son is a little easier to keep up with this way."

Vivian glanced at her, and then at Peter. "Your gentleman caller, revealed at last. I made quite a commission on those purchases, Melissa. You have excellent taste…in clothes."

Peter looked at her, bored. "Spare us your claws, Vivian…ours are far more impressive. Did you do this to save Allison?"

They shook their heads. Allison approached her parents; Peter growled, and waved her back.

"Allison…why did you do it? You killed all of these men for that boy? Your aunt? For all you know, we could have died too! Kate warned your mother and I that you threatened to kill us…" Chris asked, his voice hoarse.

Allison stopped. "You think _I_ did this? _Do you know me at all?_ I never said I would kill anyone, Kate just came out and shot Scott and Stiles while we were loading the van. I was supposed to be gone before you got home. I want to be independent, not an orphan!"

"Kate's a liar. She said it so you would help to kill us. ALL of us. I know her style…better than any of you. She was the one who burned our house and murdered our family. She manipulated you two and lied to get what she wanted…just like she did with me." Derek looked like he was fighting the urge to kick Kate's corpse, but instead he just turned away.

Chris looked at his daughter, and then his dead sister. "I don't believe…"

"Derek's right, darling, much as I hate to admit it. Kate had a tell…she touches her hair when she lies. I never believed her about Allison." Vivian put her gun in her purse.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me?" he dropped his gun hand to his side.

Vivian's eyes flashed at him. "I _had_ to tell you? You don't know your daughter…OR your sister, do you? You always had a blind spot when it came to that little psychopath. I kept quiet when I found out she was involved with that…_Derek…_but I won't keep quiet anymore. She usurped your authority with the team, and broke the code over and over again."

"That still doesn't tell us who did this. Where are the boys?" asked Peter, still glancing down at the dead.

"They're in a holding cell. You can have them as soon as we get our daughter back." said Chris.

"_This isn't a negotiation_!" snarled Derek, claws and fangs out.

"DEREK!" shouted Peter. Derek snapped his jaws at the Argents, but backed down. He remained shifted into his Beta state, glaring at them. Peter turned back to Chris.

"I don't _have_ your daughter, none of us do. She left your home in anticipation of her eviction, assuming you would be unwilling to shelter her as a werewolf. She is not sharing some cave with us; I gave her an apartment. As she has repeated over and over again, she is her own person, and is quite willing to ignore any commands her Alpha gives her...I'm sure you can sympathize. She goes where she wills and does what she pleases, and right now she would be pleased to see Scott…as would we, and the Sheriff's son as well. You remember the Sheriff, don't you Chris? Please release them."

"Allison, you know where they are. The door code is-"

"I know what it is, Dad…like I'd forget my own name."

"The door code is 'Allison'? asked Peter incredulously. "Who would do something like that?"

Allison returned in a few minutes with Stiles and Scott. They were already recovered from the bullet wounds, which were (fortunately) made by ordinary bullets.

Steven and Derek were tackled to the floor by an over-exuberant and fully wolfed out Stiles while Allison and Melissa were being hugged by an ecstatic Scott.

"Stiles, get off me! This isn't Lacrosse, I'm your father!" shouted Steven.

Stiles bounced to his feet and yanked his victims to theirs, and then there was an enraged squawk from Derek as Stiles climbed him (forgetting to put away his claws) and was soon sitting on his shoulders. Stiles flattened Derek's hair and planted his elbow on it, resting his chin on his hand while he regarded the Argents…who were staring at him in amazement. Derek shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Hey, I do that too!" said the Sheriff.

Scott looked around, noticing the bodies, and glanced nervously back at Peter.

"Was this because of us?" he asked. Allison filled him in on recent events.

"Who planted the poison then?" he asked the group. No one had an answer for him.

"Maybe Kate did it as a revenge/suicide thing." said Scott doubtfully. Derek glared at him.

"She had a list of people who she would have wanted to go before her. And funny enough, we're all here."

"Some random psycho who gets off putting poison in things?" offered Stiles from on high.

"You solved the mystery, son." said the Sheriff sarcastically. "Vivian, I'm going to need to call this in. Take every ingredient you used to make the cookies and leave them out for me. We'll have it all tested. You might consider emptying out your pantry and fridge altogether." He took out his badge and stuck it back on his shirt.

"Of course…Sheriff." Vivian agreed. Chris was still staring down at Kate.

"C'mon, honey. She was an Argent and a Hunter, and a skillful one for all her flaws. This kind of thing happens…that's why you wanted to keep your daughter away from it." Vivian glared pointedly at Allison, who blushed.

"Allison…I want you…I would _like_ for you to move back home tomorrow." Chris offered.

"What about me being a werewolf? And Scott?"

Chris opened his mouth, but Melissa beat him to it.

"Please don't tell her my son's not good enough for her. I haven't spilled blood tonight, and I'd just as soon keep it that way."

Peter smirked at her.

Chris ignored her and looked at Allison.

"Princess, I was never going to like anyone you dated. I'm not happy with your choices, but I'll live with them. Just…no changing in the house. Or any…you know. Sheriff, I'll expect _you_ inside."

They went into the house.

"When the house is rebuilt, we'll have to have them over for tea." Peter said sarcastically.

"I'll have to borrow her recipe for those cookies." Melissa said flatly.

"So, uh Dad…I guess you'll be working late tonight?" said Stiles, trying not to look ecstatic.

The Sheriff pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Hey, I do that." Derek informed him.

"Yes, I'll be working late. You're about as subtle as a rhinoceros horn in the backside, son. And oh man why did I have to pick that particular analogy?"

Stiles laughed. "He said _anal_ogy."

"Stop torturing your father." Derek walked off unsteadily with his burden.

"Let us know if you find out anything, Sheriff." Peter told him.

"Will do. Goodnight." Steven went into the Argent home.

The Alphas were left alone when Scott kissed Allison goodnight and took off for home. Peter gently grabbed Melissa's hand.

"It's beginning to be bothersome that we live in separate homes."

Melissa smiled at him.

"Then do something about it. Move in with us."

Peter laughed. "I have a better idea. Sell your house and move you and Scott into mine once it's rebuilt. Think of it, all of that space…Scott out of hearing distance on the other side of the house…the forest right there for us to explore…"

"Tempting…won't Derek want to move in? And that means Stiles…which may even mean the Sheriff…and then there's Jackson…" Melissa's eyes widened. "Peter…you don't think…"

"I considered it. I don't see how he could have managed it though. It would also mean he's farther gone than I thought. Let's not jump to conclusions. We'll see what the Sheriff finds out. Let's run back to my house so you can pick up your car."

"All right…let's get undressed over there in the shadows. Don't try anything fresh now."

"Wouldn't dream of it." he admitted, his heart skipping several beats.

It was several hours before Melissa finally arrived home.


	10. Chapter 10

Jackson read about the deaths in the Beacon Hills Gazette, and heard about it on the morning news. The poisoning was blamed on an unknown crazy, and Sheriff Stilinsky was quoted as saying that he was following up "all available leads". That couldn't possibly be true, since no one was banging down his door yet. After what he pulled with the photos, it would only be a matter of time before he was accused of the poisoning attempt.

He checked one last time to make sure he had everything he needed. His bags were packed, his Porsche gassed up and ready to burn rubber, all of his bonds and savings cashed out…he would head to New York and start over. He had more than enough to get settled there, and even finish school. As a werewolf, he could definitely take care of himself; no worries someone was going to mug him. Aside from parental objections (which he could ignore since he was 18), nothing was keeping him here. His mother was crying hysterically in her room, while his father was pouring himself… (Jackson sniffed) a bourbon and whiskey downstairs. He had a few beers already; guess he needed the hard stuff now. It wasn't Jackson's problem anyhow.

Jackson looked around his beloved room one last time before grabbing his last small suitcase and heading for the stairs. He ran his bag out to the car and started the engine, looking back at what had been his lifelong home. He felt a very far off feeling (as most of his feelings were these days) that he should at least say goodbye to them. After all, they had taken him in and given him a dream of a life…or what would have been a dream for any other kid. For Jackson, it was a torturous existence full of doubt, self-hatred and lethal competitive pressure. The gnawing, aching need to be the best at everything and subjugate the world around him to his will had been with him so long he could not remember a time before it. Even dulling his senses with alcohol or dabbling in drugs failed to dampen the powerful compulsion. Ever since the Whittemores told him about his adoption, he had been obsessed with proving to the world that abandoning him had been a mistake. It defined his existence, and there seemed to be no end to it. Ever since that revelation, he had been cut off from his own feelings. He _knew_ it was weird not to feel anything for the girls he dated, the pets his parents had given him, his 'friends', even Danny who knew more than anyone else what it was like to be different. Seeing a bit of himself in the other boy made Jackson a rabid ally as they grew up together, and it was through no small effort on Jackson's part that Danny enjoyed the level of popularity and acceptance he had today. Once people took the time to get to know him, Danny was quickly able to keep it going on his own, but he might never have gotten that chance without Jackson…and Danny never failed to let him know how grateful he was. That far off muted thing that passed for a conscience in Jackson's mind told him he should say goodbye to Danny as well. If he were going to do it, he needed to do it now before Peter caught up with him.

Peter goddamned Hale. Just when Jackson thought he had everything figured out, that jerk had to mess up his head even more than before. Jackson thought they had an understanding when Peter turned him. Peter would only be impressed by a fellow predator; Jackson knew that without being told. So Jackson, ever-adaptable, had tried to become that for him. Sure, he didn't trust Peter or even like him, and he knew that Peter was only using him, but that didn't stop Jackson wanting the guy to look at him the way a proud father would look at his newborn son…which in a sense, Jackson was in a way he never had been with the Whittemores. Jackson was Peter's _blood_, his _Pack_. Towards the very end, Jackson had almost begun to believe Peter was so impressed he would think of Jackson as a _real_ son, and not just a subordinate; that thought almost cracked the ice within him… but then Peter reminded Jackson…rather forcefully… that Jackson was and always would be nothing to him, or anyone else. If Jackson couldn't impress someone or gain their approval with even a werewolf's powers, then screw it. Screw them all, and the whole damn town too.

The photos were meant to show them all how easily the bonds could be broken with just the revelation of a few secrets. Outing Stiles to his father and Allison to her family should have let them know what Jackson felt; that your family stops loving you when they look at you just a little too closely…when they know the real you with all deceptions and illusions ripped away. He could see…_actually see in his mind…_ his own birth in some hospital. The parents take one look at the baby and shake their heads, telling the hospital they could keep him or throw him away, it was all one to them. Anyone could reject you, just like his parents had and just like the Whittemores would have if Jackson had ever allowed them to get close enough to see that he wasn;t what they really wanted. Except…the Sheriff had accepted Stiles. Allison's parents accepted her as well, from what Jackson was able to observe at their house. Well, Allison was beautiful and accomplished; Jackson could see why they still loved her. Stiles…his dad probably clung to him as the last reminder of his late wife. The annoying teenager was the definition of screw up…but he had Derek, his dad, the Pack…all of them in his corner willing to kill or die for him. Jackson saw now that he fucked up with those photos, and even more when he challenged Peter in front of the Pack…and they cast him out without a moment's hesitation without even acknowledging that he had some just cause to do it. It was almost like they were expecting it, waiting to find a reason, any reason to do it. Maybe they were right and it was just him…maybe he _was_ nothing but shit, better never to have been born. Maybe, if he took a good look at himself in a mirror, he would be disgusted too…

The wolf in him erupted outward, furious at the pain its host was feeling, but too animal-like in its thought processes to realize that that the enemy was the host himself. It looked about for something, anything to vent its rage on. A second later, the Whittemore mailbox was ripped from its post and hurled into the street. Jackson struggled to control his savage hatred that now had a life of its own, but still the wolf looked for prey. The street was deserted…but the house was not. It could sense two within, and the wolf snarled while drool dripped from its fang filled mouth.

"NO!" Jackson screamed from deep within the wolf's consciousness. Jackson focused his will, opened his jaws and brought his arm up to his own mouth. He savagely sank his teeth into it, the pain clearing his head and forcing the wolf back into its lair as he worked his teeth through the ropes of his own muscles. One of the two bones (radius? ulna? who gives a shit) snapped and the other was bending when he finally released his jaws.

He screamed in pain, though not from his arm. That he barely noticed. Hot tears poured like acid down his face, mixing with the blood that ran from his mouth. He sat on the pavement and pounded his fist bloody on the uncaring street. The relentless healing factor was kicking in even as he sought to destroy himself, raking new grown claws across his face and chest and legs, the wounds sealing up almost as soon as he made them. Finally, his wildly glowing eyes faded back to their normal blue

He started to laugh, despite the pain, looking down at his hands that were clotted with blood and strips of his own skin and yet no evidence of any wound on his body. It was hilarious, just when he'd about decided to check out of this stupid life, his own body wouldn't let him. He really was a walking joke.

Thankfully, mercifully the coldness started to creep back. The ability to feel, sorely missed until now, slowly retreated to its far off lair. The wolf did the same, leaving Jackson feeling tired…almost sleepy. He sighed in relief.

"Jacks?" said a voice.

Jackson looked up. There was only one person who called him that, and he didn't need the sight or scent to confirm his identity.

"Danny. What's up?" Jackson gave the confused teen a friendly wave.

"What happened to you?" Danny said quietly. His brown eyes searched Jackson's body for the source of all the blood, but found nothing. Jackson looked like he fought with a pissed off mountain lion. He stepped back as Jackson gained his feet and approached him.

"Just having some rough times man. Can you drive me over to your house in my car so I can get cleaned up? I can't go in my house like this. I'm not hurt at all, so stop thinking about calling an ambulance."

"Yeah, get in." Danny got behind the wheel.

Jackson thanked the gods that Danny just took it in stride, and would wait for the answers he obviously wanted.

Danny's house was five minutes away, and Jackson had him park the car inside the garage. His parents were likely at work, there was no scent of them in the house. Jackson went straight to the guest bathroom and pulled off the remaining shreds of his clothes. No more Lacrosse letter jacket. Danny followed him into the bathroom and leaned against the sink staring intently while Jackson turned on the water. Jackson glanced meaningfully at the door.

"No, sorry, I stay. Argue with me and I get in there with you."

"I knew you wanted to see my ass." Jackson called as he got behind the curtain.

"I've seen your ass. Not impressed." Danny called back. Jackson couldn't hear Danny's heart over the spray of the water, but it was just as well. A little mystery in life was good. Jackson let himself enjoy the steaming spray of water for a few minutes before washing up in earnest. When he opened the curtain, Danny was holding out a towel for him. Jackson wrapped it around his waist and took another to dry his hair. Danny gave him his toiletry bag and the smaller suitcase from the car, and waited patiently while Jackson finished up.

Danny poured him a drink that Jackson dearly wished would have an effect on him, but to the wolf it could have been warm milk.

"You aren't injured, but I think that was your blood. What's going on with you?" Danny continued to gaze at him steadily. Jackson began to get uncomfortable.

"Don't look at me like that. I hate when people stare at me" Jackson sounded whiney even to himself.

"Why? I never understood that. You have to know you're good looking, Jacks."

Jackson was silent. He couldn't tell Danny about what happened when people looked too closely at him. If Danny ever got that look of disgust on his face, Jackson would go crazy.

"Well, you are. If I told you just how many of your fellow players really did look at your ass, you'd never shower with us again. Then there's my suspicions about Coach Finstock…" Danny grinned, hoping to get a rise out of Jackson.

"Like that means shit, even if it's true, which it isn't." Jackson said quietly. Danny's grin faded.

"What's going on, Jacks? I mean it. Tell me."

Jackson sighed. "What do you see when you look at me? I mean…_really _look at me?"

"The truth? You can take it?" Danny asked seriously.

Jackson's heart sank. Not Danny too… "Yeah. Don't hold back."

"I've done a lot of staring at you over the years. I know you must think that deep down I've got the hots for you. And at first, before I knew you, I kind of did. But when I took a real good look at you…"

"Look, nevermind. I have to go." Jackson stood up.

Danny got up and shoved him back down on the couch. Jackson looked up at him, too surprised to speak.

"You asked me, now you sit that ass down and hear the answer." Danny wasn't a werewolf, but his eyes almost seemed to glow for a second.

"Okay man. Go ahead." Might as well get it over with.

"Jacks…you were the nicest guy to me when we grew up. If I tried to tell you how much it meant to me, I'd start to cry. You might think that sounds gay as hell, but it's true. My life would have been so much shittier without you. I can't even think about it, way too horrible. People were actually jealous that you and I were so close, and I know that a few thought we were boning each other in private so I did the best I could to make it clear we were just friends. I would hate it if you got flak over me, but you just really never seemed to give a shit what people thought…as far as you and I go, anyway. Then I noticed that with most other people you were kind of arrogant. Then you became a snob…and then a downright shit when it came to McCall, and I'll never figure that out as long as I live. But you were never like that with me and I wondered for a minute if it was because you really did …kind of like me. But then I knew. What's the only thing we have in common besides Lacrosse? We were guys that were on the outside looking in…me because I'm gay, and you because of your adoption. You made people forget about the adoption crap by being hot and dating all the girls and playing Lacrosse, and I did the same…except for the girls part…"

"And the being hot part." Jackson quipped.

"Screw you, asshole." Danny laughed. "Anyway, you helped me build self-esteem I'd never had before…but you never did the same for you. You have a major insecurity issue…what did they call it in that psyche class? An inferiority complex. You see everyone as a threat, you're always trying to prove that you're better…Jacks, people only do that when it's _themselves_ they're trying to convince. Now, I know you better than anyone. Why can I look at you and see a smart handsome and all around great guy, and you can't even see that for yourself? People would _kill_ to be you, Jacks. Hell, I might."

"That's just surface shit, Dan! Anybody that ever looked inside me backed away like I was the Hunchback of Notre Dame!"

Jackson's face was red, and he felt the wolf rouse itself. Panicked, he slammed it back down and looked away until he felt it was safe again.

"Jacks, I've looked at you in class, while you were taking tests or writing notes…I've looked at you while you were asleep when we spent the night at each other's house. Hell, I've even seen you get drunk and try to make _fucking impossible_ Lacrosse shots and having a nervous breakdown when you couldn't because, oh let me see, _they were fucking impossible!_ You beat the shit out of yourself all the time and I fucking hate it because you're my best friend and nobody should have to feel that way about themselves! No one, not you or me or even McCall because you certainly tried to _make_ him feel that way! Why, Jacks? Why do you hate yourself so much? I wish I knew who did this to you, so I could shove my Lacrosse stick straight up their ass!"

Both boys had tears on their faces now.

"Dan…my own parents didn't want me…" Jackson tried to speak around a painful lump in his throat.

"OH, FUCK YOUR PARENTS! Who gives a shit about them? They did you the biggest favor by giving you up to people who _did_ want you! Jesus, Jacks, tell me this isn't what's been bothering you all these years!" Danny was red faced while he shouted.

"THEY WERE RIGHT! YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT I'VE DONE!" Jackson yelled back. Too late he realized his mistake. He was shifting, right here, right now in front of his best friend. Danny's eyes got wide, and he backed away, the fear on his face making Jackson even angrier. It finally happened. Danny had finally seen the real Jackson and turned against him just like everyone else. Danny fell back onto the couch and stared up at the monster Jackson had become. The fangs clenched and the broad chest rumbled with terrifying growls. The claws clicked together as Jackson opened and closed his fists. Snarling, he tore open the front door and left behind the last person in the world he gave a shit about. It was over, he had nothing, not even his car. If he went back in now, he didn't know what he would do. He ran for the forest, wanting to lose himself in the trees. It was evening now, and the nearly full moon rode high above the treeline. Jackson raced towards it, wishing he could actually get there and stay there forever. Well, let's see how close he could get. His head jerked up before he'd run his first mile; three scents were closing in on him from all sides. The wolf wanted to roar out a challenge, but Jackson's human half had been pushed far beyond endurance. Jackson stopped in a small clearing and made himself shift back.

Three werewolves burst into the clearing and surrounded him.

"There you are, shithead." growled a furious Stiles.

"We're going to take you apart!" put in a yellow-eyed Scott.

"End of the road, you son of a bitch." snarled Derek.

Jackson fell to his knees, grateful that at least it would be over. He hated that Scott was going to be the one to take him out, but maybe Jackson owed it to him.

"Do it, if you've got the balls. Do it now. I'm sick of you all." Jackson ripped at the collar of his shirt, exposing his neck. Slowly, the three Betas closed in on him.


	11. Chapter 11

"I should have known it was you. That first night, you even told us how you'd do it. _'I get in the house for a 'meet the boyfriend' dinner…and slaughter them all while their hands are full of appetizers instead of weapons.'_ When did you plant that rat poison, the night you came to visit Allison? Did you plan to kill the whole family along with Kate?" Derek grabbed Jackson by the neck and slammed him up against a tree.

"Did it occur to you that Allison could have eaten one of those damned cookies?" Scott growled. "Or that Kate could have killed her if she saw those pictures?"

"My dad almost died because of those pictures, Jack-ass. I have a personal law about people that put my dad in danger: _I eat them!" _Stiles grabbed hold of Jackson's ears, the claws digging painfully into the soft cartilage. "Look, now _my_ hands are full of appetizers! Who wants one? You, Scott?"

"Yeah, I'll have one." Scott answered. "You, Derek? I'll share."

"Nah, you go ahead Scott. I don't want to spoil my appetite for the main course." Derek slammed the claws of his free paw into Jackson's stomach. If Derek was expecting a scream, he was disappointed.

"Anyone…ever tell you…not to play with…your food?" Jackson gasped out when the pain receded.

"Oh my god, he's right…can we just kill him already?" Stiles pulled back, sniffing the air. "Shit." Stiles yelped as he was suddenly yanked backward.

"Shit is right, son. What the _hell_ are you three doing?" Sheriff Stilinsky looked his son up and down as he dangled him in the air. "Explain, Stiles. Derek, Scott…leave Jackson alone."

"_I'm_ not your son, Sheriff. You can't tell _me_ what to do." Scott glowered at the older man.

"No, but I can. _Do as he says Scott_." Melissa McCall joined the older man. Scott gaped, then backed slowly away from Jackson.

"And you, Derek. Jackson is not to be harmed." Peter stepped out from behind the very tree Jackson was held against, startling Derek so much he dropped Jackson to the ground.

The Sheriff walked over and examined Jackson. The boy had a blank look on his face, like he was in shock.

"Your parents called the police, Jackson. They sent me over to Danny's, and he was outside yelling that you turned into a monster and ran into the woods. Peter and Mel were with me, and we tracked you down…along with you three!" he turned and glared at the trio of younger Betas.

"Why are you trying to save him? Look what he did! He can't go to jail as a werewolf, we'll be exposed! We have to stop him!" Scott was furious.

"He may have sent those pictures…but he did not poison Kate and her men. Vivian confessed to everything when she found out we suspected Jackson."

Scott and Stiles were stunned, Derek bewildered.

"Her own sister-in-law? Why?" Derek kept looking back and forth from Jackson to the Sheriff.

"She decided to do it as soon as she found out Allison was bitten. She knew Kate would want to kill Scott and Stiles, and eventually Allison. Chris' men would have turned on him if he tried to stop them."

"But that night, we asked her and she denied it! Her heartbeat didn't skip!" said Derek.

"She didn't do it _to save Allison_, which is what we asked. Vivian feels perfectly sure Allison could have taken care of herself, especially now. Vivian did it to save Scott…and to _end the war_ between her family and ours, so that Allison could be happy. She knew Chris would love his daughter, no matter what…but Kate and her crew…they would just never let it go. Vivian suspected Kate was responsible for the Hale fire, and knew that Scott wouldn't last long as Kate's prisoner despite that he was a teenager and had never killed anyone. Scott being dead would make Allison very unhappy, so she acted."

"Why would she care about me?" asked Scott.

"It seems Allison inadvertently made a very convincing case for you as the 'right one' in Vivian's mind. Something about you being just as over-protective as Chris himself. Then during that run-in with your mother, something Melissa said hit home with her…what was it you told her?"

"I said 'We are both mothers, and we are both protective of our children. I will not drive my son away by interfering with his personal life, much as I would like to. You might want to do the same.' I guess she took that advice to heart…she didn't interfere, and didn't let Kate interfere either." Melissa looked steadily at Scott as she said this.

"I remember that, and didn't she say something like 'You'd be surprised at how fiercely we Argents can defend what we hold precious to us'? Holy crap, I don't think I'll be ready for parenthood anytime soon. What about Chris?"

Peter answered that question. "Chris would have shot Kate himself to protect Allison. He's pretty upset, as you can imagine…but he understands what Kate was now."

"But dad, you're just going to let it go? Don't you have to arrest her or something?" Stiles asked. He was now looking at Jackson with guilt written all over his face. Jackson still seemed to be in a state of shock.

"What would be the point, son? Vivian…is in the fourth stage of an aggressive cancer. She has maybe a few months left to live. This was her last gift to her daughter." The Sheriff rubbed his eyes while he said this.

Melissa's eyes shone as well. Despite her rivalry with the other woman, Melissa had spent enough time in Oncology wards to never want that fate for anybody. It was a horrible thing to suffer. "She was tired of the Hunter life. She wanted to be a normal mother for just a little while."

Stiles looked down. Looked like he and Allison would have something in common. "Can she…be turned?"

"I offered. She declined." Peter said quietly. "She was kind enough to state that it was not due to her natural dislike for werewolves…but rather the very high chance that she would not survive the bite. She doesn't want to cut short the small amount of time she has left with her family."

The six werewolves were silent for a bit.

"Well Jackson, I'm still mad at you for those pictures. But I'm sorry for trying to kill you." Stiles said stiffly. "C'mon, Derek."

Derek glared at Jackson for almost a full minute before his gaze finally became pitying. He shook his head and followed Stiles into the woods.

"Sorry Jackson." Scott mumbled. He went after Derek and Stiles, waving goodbye to the adults.

"And when I get home, we are going to discuss some ground rules about killing and eating people, young man!" called Melissa after him. "I really just said that, didn't I?" she said to the others, horrified. Peter smirked.

"Now what do we do with this fine fellow here?" wondered the Sheriff aloud.

"As you told me Steven, this is my mess to clean up. I'll be more than happy to take him off your hands and get him safely home."

"Sounds good. I'll call the Whittemores and then try to talk some sense into Danny." Melissa and Peter looked down at Jackson as the Sheriff took off into the woods.

"Should have let them do it. I wanted it to end." Jackson said lifelessly.

"Guess that's why you didn't bother to tell anyone you weren't responsible for the rat poison, hmm? Well, I hate to tell you this, but what _you_ want has little to do with things. A great many people would be upset if you were dead, Jackson. Us, your parents, and your friends…do you know what your friend Danny said to the Sheriff? He told him to tell you he was sorry he freaked out on you, that he was just surprised. He said 'If you find Jacks…tell him I'll always be here for him.' He was crying the whole time."

Jackson looked up at the Alpha. Deep within him, he felt a sudden warmth as the glacial ice that was all that remained of his soul gave a tremendous crack.

"He really said that?"

"You know it's pointless to lie, Jackson." Peter pulled him to his feet. He sighed heavily. "Jackson…I was wrong to treat you the way I did. I was in a worse place than you when I did it, and I'm ashamed. I owe you a debt. If there is anything I can give you or do for you, just let me know."

"I just want…" Jackson couldn't finish. He honestly didn't know. Melissa came over to him and moved to stroke his cheek; Jackson flinched away from her touch.

"Please don't touch me. I made Scott's life miserable. You should hate me." Jackson couldn't look at either of them.

"You were having a rough time. Scott made Stiles miserable for a while too; it's what kids seem to like to do these days. He'll get over it."

"I'm…I'm sorry…about everything. I'm going…to go away. I don't deserve to be here around you guys. I'm leaving, I'm never going to come back…"

"I'm afraid that we have to forbid that Jackson, as your Pack Alphas." Peter said clearly. Jackson turned to stare at him.

"I'm still in the Pack?"

"Of course, until Melissa and I say otherwise. Don't worry about the others, the Alpha is the law in a Pack, and the boys will accept it. You'll probably be treated like an Omega for a few years, but they'll come around. Eventually." A smile tugged at the corners of Peter's lips. "Liss, give me some time alone with Jackson. There are some things I need to discuss with him." Melissa read the look on his face and nodded. "I'll see you later. Jackson…I'm here if you ever need to talk." Melissa squeezed Peter's hand gently before leaving.

"I understand what you're going through better than anyone. Jackson, people have both good and bad qualities in them, but it's the choices we make that show which side is more powerful. When we're hurt and angry…we make bad choices, and want others to hurt just like us. You and I both hurt people that we had no right to. I have to live with the guilt not only of what I did, but of what my actions led _you_ to do. I blame myself for everything that happened. I'm the one that needs you to forgive me. Do you?"

"A question first. That debt. What if I said I wanted to bite you?" Jackson asked.

Peter blinked. "I would have to let you. It wouldn't turn you into an Alpha, that's just for mates. But if you wish to…go ahead."

Peter pulled up his sleeve and offered it to Jackson.

"I know it wouldn't turn me into an Alpha, but it would put me at the top of the Beta totem pole. You'd really do that for me?" Jackson was amazed.

"You kids and the goddamned internet…but yes." Peter closed his eyes and waited.

"No, I don't want to bite you. And don't flatter yourself. I was screwed up before I ever met you. Nothing to forgive."

"Oh, good." said Peter yanking his sleeve down again.

"It means a lot to me that you would let me. But I tell you what…if the others get too carried away, I'll ask again. The looks on their faces would be priceless…"

Peter chuckled. "Fair enough. Son…are you okay?"

"Did you just call me 'son'?" Jackson asked.

"It's a figure of speech, Jackson. Does it offend you?"

"No…I…kind of like it. Mr. Whittemore…my dad…he's always pretty formal. He never called me that. It kind of bothered me."

"I don't know if children are in my future, Jackson. Melissa has been ominously quiet on that front. But I would have been very proud to call you my son. I envy the Whittemores a great deal."

The thawing of Jackson's soul continued, and Jackson hugged the older man while shudders racked his body, Peter's arms wound tightly around him as he stroked Jackson's hair. The ice broke into smaller and smaller pieces until it was all gone…it took all of the anger with it, along with the shame and doubt, but he still felt disconnected and empty.

"I'm going to take you under my wing, Jackson. I'm going to teach you everything I know. Anything you feel you can't go to your parents about…you come and talk to me. Anytime, day or night. Got it?"

Jackson nodded quietly. He was exhausted now, and just wanted to go to sleep.

They went back to Danny's first, so that Jackson could pick up his car and clothing. Danny approached him warily, his eyes searching for the beast that had shown itself before.

"So…werewolf, huh?" he asked.

"Yeah." Jackson shrugged.

"You just had to top me, didn't you? You couldn't stand that I was this cool gay guy, so you had to go and be a werewolf?"

"Yeah, Danny. You figured me out. I just _had_ to be the more interesting person at parties. And don't tell me you wouldn't like it if I topped you."

Danny punched him in the arm. "You're lucky I don't want to mess up that pretty face."

"Stiles has us both beat. He's gay _and_ a werewolf."

"No way!" Danny shouted.

"Jackson…" Peter growled.

"Oops, guess I should have let him be the one to say that. Sorry, Peter."

"Well, I guess he had it coming for the stunt he pulled tonight. See to it that no one gives him a hard time, Jackson. Derek's been in enough trouble lately without wanting to maul other kids at your school."

"I will." Jackson went into the garage to start up his car.

"I'll keep both your secrets under wraps. No worries. And…Peter, is it?"

"Yes?"

Danny gave the surprised older man a hug. "Thanks for helping him. He's my best friend, and I'll always be grateful…it killed me that I wasn't there for him when he needed me. No way I could have kept up with him through those woods though."

"Anytime…" Peter looked down at him with sudden interest before leaving the house.

Jackson let Peter drive the Porsche for the short trip back to the Whittemore home.

"I have GOT to get me one of these!" Peter exclaimed. Jackson snickered. They got out and Peter walked Jackson up to his door. "Good luck." was all he said before disappearing down the dark driveway.

Jackson walked in the door and was promptly engulfed by his mother in a lethal hug.

"Don't you ever do that to us again, you hear me? All this talk of leaving because no one cares…"

An hour later, after both his mother and father had their say, Jackson crawled into his bed and stared at the ceiling. He supposed he should be happy. His Pack had forgiven him, he knew that there were people who cared about him, and he no longer was consumed by the terrible obsessions that dominated his life. Scott could have the Lacrosse team if he wanted it. Jackson just didn't care anymore. He needed to take some personal time to figure things out. He thought of Peter, his new father figure and role model, and hoped the Alpha knew what he had gotten himself into.

{}{}{}{}

Melissa looked up in time to see Peter climb in her window.

"If I told you how much that creeps me out and turns me on at the same time…oh my god, why do you have blood on your mouth? Did you and Jackson fight?"

"No, not at all. Jackson is just fine and home with his family. I just stopped for a bite on the way home…or rather, to give someone the bite."

"What? Who?" Melissa waited impatiently while Peter brushed his teeth and rinsed out with mouth wash in the master bath.

Peter gave her all the details of what occurred after she left. "So I decided to stop back at Danny's after I left Jackson. They're best friends, and this will make sure that Jackson will always have someone in his corner within hands reach. They'll be a match for Scott and Stiles if those two decide to gang up on him."

"But, he…he wanted it?"

"After I gave him the rundown on what to expect, he jumped at the chance. I think they will have some interesting Lacrosse games this year."

"I have this feeling we're going to need a roster soon to keep track."

Peter chuckled. "Liss…when Kate destroyed my family, you have no idea what I lost. There were so many of us, and we were so bonded together…she wiped out an entire Pack in one shot. As an Alpha, one of the drives is to keep a Pack large and strong. I want to give the boys…all of them…some of the same happiness I had with my family."

"But you had them all under one roof…" Melissa stopped as Peter began to grin. "What?"

"I closed the deal on the reconstruction of the house today. It was huge before, but now…once I have all the Pack moved in, _you_ are going to have your hands full, Mrs. Alpha."

"I'm not 'Mrs.' anyone, Mr. Commitment-Phobe Peter Hale. Do you see an engagement ring on this finger?" She held out her hand.

"Now I do." He pulled out a ring with a platinum band bearing a stylized wolf head clutching an enormous diamond in its jaws and deftly slipped it onto Melissa's finger. She looked at it, her breath gone.

"Does this mean you'd say yes if I asked you to marry me?" Peter asked gently.

"Yes? Just try and escape!" She threw her arms around him, her eyes wet with tears. "Well, I know one person who'll be overjoyed. With Scott turning 18 and me getting married, my ex can finally keep his support checks to himself."

Peter got up and wandered back into the bathroom as he got undressed. "You should invite him to the wedding. I'd love to-" The sound of the shower turning on blotted out the rest of his words.

"Did you say 'meet him' or 'eat him'?" she called out.

Peter leaned out of the bathroom. "I'll surprise you…and him. Care to join me?"

"You don't have to ask me twice. And for the record, I'm okay with either option."

Peter chuckled as she let her nightgown drop to the floor, the chuckle turning into a low throaty growl as the male Alpha took in the delicious sight of his mate.

{}{}{}{}

The next few months saw some dramatic changes for many of the residents of Beacon Hills.

Peter and Melissa had a lavish double wedding with Scott and Allison; Melissa and Chris consenting to the early union of their children due to Vivian's declining health. She cried at the wedding, the first time any of the family had ever seen her do it, including her own husband. Both couples decided not go on honeymoons, wanting to rally around Vivian in her final weeks. Robert McCall got drunk at the reception and made some off color comments to Melissa. Peter sent a signal to his Betas (including Scott) who forcibly evicted Robert from the event and giving him the scare of his life in the alley outside.

Vivian Argent lasted three months longer than her most optimistic doctor predicted, and when she passed, she was surrounded by all of her family as well as the re-formed Pack. The Hunters and Lycans glared at each other across the hospital bed, but kept the peace on this one occasion. Chris was devastated, Allison was now all he had left in the world; the rest of the family cut themselves off after the funeral when they found out about her new life. The sense of betrayal he felt led him to ask Peter to let him into the Pack as a way of having a more understanding relationship with his daughter. Peter agreed, and Chris closed down his business, liquidated all of his assets and made them available not only to his daughter but to any in the Pack that needed assistance. This was his way of making up for the wrongs his family had done to the lycans and permanently disinheriting himself from his previous human family.

When the Hale Manor was completed (house seemed to simple a word to describe the incredible structure), the lycans old and new moved into it. Many of them traveled off and on, but there were always enough there to keep the Alphas busy.

Stiles went to college at UCLA for pre-law, and Derek (who seemed to panic anytime he wasn't within ten feet of Stiles) finally became motivated to dust off his own diploma and follow him. Word reached the Hale home that the Residence Life director was in psychiatric counseling after trying to tell Derek he couldn't room with Stiles until next semester. Derek chose 'animal husbandry' as his major, just for an excuse to stay in school.

Scott surprised everyone by getting accepted to medical school, causing Melissa to have the 'happy' equivalent of a nervous breakdown. She screamed and cried and hugged Scott so much she forgot her own Alpha strength and cracked three of his ribs. Scott coughed up some blood and excused himself, hiding in the woods with Allison until his mom calmed down. Allison got into the program with him, and the two worked extremely well at getting each other through the tough examinations.

Danny found his true mate rather quickly after being turned…a Beta from another Pack named Brett Creszki who happened to pass through the area. His resemblance to Jackson was uncanny, though Danny claimed not to see it.

Chris Argent and Steven Stilinsky became close friends as the only two unattached (and uninterested) males in the home. Before too long (since he was at a loss for something to do with his life) he was duly deputized by the Sheriff who valued his tracking skills (new and old) in chasing down criminals.

As for Jackson himself…he became much closer to Lydia after their relationship ended…it was obvious to both that the mating bond was not happening for either of them. Lydia used her formidable powers of persuasion to get Melissa to bring her into the Pack to see if that could spark the bond (and because Lydia thought it was just the right thing to scandalize her parents…and oh boy, was she right) but nothing happened. She wound up bonding instantly with Lukas Ford, another Beta from the same Pack as Brett. The two couples constantly invited Jackson along on their outings, though Jackson felt that he was, both literally and figuratively, a fifth wheel. He started avoiding them after a while, as the empty feeling that never really left him began to grow larger. None of the Pack knew how to help him, as there was no way to force the process of finding a mate. One day, Peter Hale and Zack Ross (Alpha of the other Pack) decided to form an alliance between the two groups, and the new werewolves attended a huge celebration at Hale Manor while Jackson sat up in the high wooded hills to the south…where he once had taken some ill-fated pictures. He was drinking _meekulbrau_, an alcoholic beverage strong enough to kick a werewolf's ass (and thus lethal to humans) that Brett turned him on to.

The emptiness yawned within him. He rubbed his eyes and leaned his head down as he watched his friends frolic on the giant front lawn. The bottle slipped from his fingers.

He heard a sound then, and looked to see a pretty girl with gorgeous curly brown hair and chocolate eyes taking a long swig from it. Jackson tried to smell her, but the alcohol had dampened his olfactory abilities..

"I hope you aren't human. My Porsche could run on that stuff." he told her.

"Yeah right, Brett, like you own a …oh my god, I'm sorry. You're the other one... Jacks?"

"Jackson. Only Danny calls me Jacks, but you can too if you want."

"I'm Lexie. Lexie Wade. This stuff is the bomb. How much did you drink?"

"Not enough."

"Well, here then." Her fingers touched his as she passed him the bottle. His sense of smell came roaring back while sound became muted. Jackson inhaled, and her scent was like a cooling breeze in the desert. She caught his scent too, and her eyes widened. "No goddamn way." She sat back and turned away from him.

"What's wrong?" He had to fight himself not to sit down next to her and put his arm around her shoulder.

"Well, if you're feeling what I'm feeling…it's pretty hilarious because you look just like my ex…well, he was almost an ex."

"That Creszki guy? I agree with Danny…I don't see it. But...you _are_ feeling something?" he said huskily.

"If I were that type of girl, and if I weren't on the rebound from having my heart broken twice, you would already be screaming my name and bleeding from about half a dozen scratches."

Jackson swallowed noisily. He was filling up inside, too quickly, and it was almost too much to bear. He wanted to stand, but quickly determined that it would be a bad idea.

"Oh my god…" he was hyperventilating as the world seemed to burst into color around him, and he started getting distracted by the green of the trees and grass, the blue of the sky and the incredible brown eyes of the girl next to him. "Too much…oh god it's too much." He rolled on his side, turning away from the vision next to him as if she were the sun on a hot day.

Her cool fingers combed through his hair. "Wow, this is hitting you hard…I'm kind of flattered."

Jackson grabbed her wrist and pulled her roughly on top of him, then rolled them until she lay underneath him. She looked into his golden eyes that now matched her own, amused and unafraid. He leaned down and captured her upper lip in both of his own, then did the same to her lower. She leaned into the kisses, one hand reaching around the back of his neck as they sealed their mouths together and kissed savagely, Jackson's mind and body exploding with sensation and feeling. This was it…this was what it felt like to have a living soul…how did he survive without it? How could he survive if he somehow lost it again?

"What do you see when you look at me?" he suddenly asked her.

"The one I've been waiting my whole life for. And you?"

"Ditto." he teased. He felt his fangs starting to protrude along with whatever was going on below the waist. Jackson had never felt the shift come on him while in this kind of mood. It was an entirely different feeling. The wolf in him was ecstatic.

"That's so romantic." she said sarcastically. "You just postponed our 'first time' by at least a week." She yawned, her own fang filled mouth feeding his desire even more. God, she was glorious.

"We'll see who breaks first." Jackson stood and pulled her to her feet. "Let's go down and join the others." Peering down at the lawn, he saw the Betas from Lexie's Pack pointing up at them and high fiving. Jackson rolled his eyes.

Zack, Peter and Melissa were stunned when they noticed the new couple, their hands locked together as they joined their friends.

"It's like an epidemic, Hale! Forget about uniting the Packs, it's like one Pack already!" Zack whispered, awed.

"I'm so happy for them, Peter." breathed Melissa.

"Me too. I'm happy for all of us." he held her close and kissed her, losing himself in the glorious gold of her eyes.


End file.
